If  nub 


LORD  BEACONSFIELD 

A  STUDY 

BY 

GEORG     BRANDES 


AUTHORIZED    TRANSLATION 
BY 

MRS.     GEORGE    STURGE 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

743  AND   745   BROADWAY 

1880 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION i 

I.     THE  FAMILY 6 

II.     BOYHOOD 20 

III.  YOUTHFUL  AMBITION 28 

IV.  CHARACTERISTICS 48 

V.     "  VIVIAN  GREY  " 63 

VI.     "POPANILLA" 76 

VII.     TRAVELS  ABROAD 81 

VIII.     LIFE  IN  LONDON / 105 

IX.     FIRST  POLITICAL  CAMPAIGNS 118 

X.  THE   "VINDICATION    OF    THE    ENGLISH    CONSTITU- 
TION " 142 

XI.    "  VENETIA  "  AND  "  HENRIETTA  TEMPLE  " 151 

XII.     THE  MAIDEN  SPEECH 169 

XIII.     FIRST  ATTEMPTS  IN  PARLIAMENT 178 

XIV.     "  YOUNG  ENGLAND  "  AND  "  CONINGSBY  " 190 

XV.    "  SYBIL  " 218 

XVI.    THE  CORN  LAWS  AND  THE  CONTEST  WITH  PEEL 234 

XVII.     "  TANCRED  " 267 


iv  Contents. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVIII.     DISRAELI  AS  TORY  LEADER 291 

XIX.     FIRST  MINISTERIAL  OFFICE 301 

XX.  DISRAELI  AS  LEADER  OF  THE  OPPOSITION,  AND  HIS 

SECOND  MINISTERIAL  OFFICE  . .   312 

XXI.  •   OPPOSITION,  AND  THE  REFORM  MINISTRY 329 

XXII.     "  LOTHAIR,"  AND  FOURTH  MINISTERIAL  OFFICE 345 

XXIII.     CONCLUSION 358 


LORD     BEACONSFIELD. 


INTRODUCTION. 

IT  is  usual  to  draw  a  decided  distinction  between 
politicians  and  literary  men.  There  seems  to  be  a 
great  gulf  between  the  men  of  letters  and  the  men 
of  action.  Every  one  can  bring  forward  instances 
to  show  that  distinguished  savans,  orators,  poets, 
and  professors  have  shown  a  want  of  common  sense 
or  political  ability  if  they  have  left  the  paths  of 
literature  for  the  career  of  a  statesman.  We  have 
often  seen  political  theorists  condemned  to  play 
but  a  subordinate  part,  or  to  exercise  but  a  tem- 
porary influence,  in  the  parliament  of  their  country, 
and  humanitarian  poets,  like  Lamartine,  who  have 
wearied  the  national  assembly  with  their  lyrics,  and 
whose  political  career  has  been  confined  to  a  single 
great  moment.  As  a  rule,  then,  eminent  literary 
ability  precludes  political  action,  and,  vice  versd, 
political  action  suppresses  the  development  of  lit- 
erary powers.  Practical  politicians,  therefore,  often 


2  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

somewhat  undervalue  those  who  come  to  politics 
fresh  from  the  ranks  of  literature ;  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  men  of  speculative  tendencies  and  re- 
fined culture  are  apt  to  have  something  of  the  same 
feeling  towards  the  men  of  eminent  administrative 
or  diplomatic  talents;  and  when,  like  Renan,  for 
example,  they  see  their  fine-spun  political  theories 
rejected,  they  find  compensation  for  their  wounded 
pride  in  the  idea  that  shrewd  and  worldly  wise 
mediocrity,  in  most  cases,  suffices  for  the  politician. 

Nevertheless,  there  is  an  aspect  under  which  lead- 
ing statesmen  become  literary  characters,  and  fall 
within  the  sphere  of  the  literary  critic.  Within  cer- 
tain limits,  every  political  magnate  has  a  literary 
side.  At  any  rate,  there  are  his  speeches  and  let- 
ters, and  Carlyle  has  shown  how  much  insight  may 
be  gained  from  the  letters  and  speeches  of  even  so 
illiterate  a  statesman  as  Cromwell.  These  produc- 
tions have  also,  for  the  most  part,  a  direct  literary 
value ;  for  a  superior  man,  whatever  his  education 
may  have  been,  generally  finds  expression  for  his 
thoughts  in  a  way  peculiar  to  himself :  he  is  original, 
that  is,  he  is  in  possession  of  the  secret,  often  with- 
held from  many  an  author  by  profession,  of  charac- 
terizing or  caricaturing  a  person  or  subject  by  some 
mimic  or  graphic  word. 

Still,  in  spite  of  the  contrast  between  theoretical 
and  practical  men,  a  long  series  of  exceptions  has 


Introduction.  3 

shown  that  literary  and  political  talents  may  be 
found  united.  The  political  historian  is  sometimes 
transformed  into  the  practical  politician,  and  there 
are  still  more  instances  of  the  transition  from  poli- 
tics to  history.  Cicero  and  Thiers  were  at  once 
eminent  authors  and  statesmen,  Julius  Caesar  and 
Frederick  the  Great  were  both  men  of  literary 
tastes,  and  were  at  the  same  time  politicians  and 
military  geniuses. 

Artistic,  and  still  more  poetic,  gifts  are,  in  the 
case  of  leading  statesmen,  very  rare,  the  rarest  of 
all.  Cavour  was  a  good  speaker;  Bismarck  is  an 
excellent  speaker,  but  he  is  not  a  born  orator,  nor 
was  Cavour,  who  was  entirely  without  artistic  train- 
ing ;  near  the  close  of  his  life,  after  a  visit  to  Tus- 
cany, he  said,  "  I  have  discovered  in  myself  a  taste 
which  I  did  not  know  that  I  possessed — the  taste 
for  art,"  a  saying  which  accords  with  what  he  used 
to  say  when  conversation  turned  to  this  subject : 
"  I  cannot  make  a  sonnet,  but  I  can  make  Italy." 
Scarcely  any  one  would  suspect  Bismarck  of  secret 
poetical  productions;  a  romance  or  a  poem  from 
him  sounds  still  more  improbable  than  a  sonnet  by 
Cavour.  Yet  there  are  so  many  literary  productions 
by  his  hand,  that  a  shrewd  critic  might  try  to  de- 
lineate his  character  from  them ;  but  it  would  be 
anything  but  exhaustive :  it  is  only  in  his  actions 
that  we  see  the  whole  man ;  the  chief  characteristics 


4  Lord  Beaconsficld. 

of  a  statesman  such  as  he  is  are  concealed  from  the 
eyes  of  the  literary  critic. 

It  is  all  the  more  interesting  for  the  critic,  when 
by  a  solitary  chance,  one  of  the  leading  statesmen 
of  Europe  is  also  a  distinguished  author,  a  poet,  and 
a  politician,  who  has  portrayed  his  own  character 
and  given  us  his  ideas  in  his  works.  The  critic 
hereby  gains  an  insight,  seldom  granted  him,  into 
the  psychology  of  such  a  personage.  Each  work  by 
his  hand  is  an  instrument  which  he  has  fabricated 
for  us  himself,  wherewith  we  may  penetrate  into  the 
workshop  of  his  ideas ;  each  book  that  he  has  writ- 
ten is  a  window  through  which  we  may  look  into 
his  mind.  Each  train  of  thought  which  he  has  re- 
vealed to  us,  every  character  he  has  devised,  every 
feeling  that  he  has  described,  contains,  partly,  a 
series  of  confessions  which  he  has  consciously  laid 
bare,  and  which  must  be  carefully  examined,  as  well 
as  a  series  of  involuntary  confessions  running  paral- 
lel to  them,  which  may  be  detected ;  only  no  at- 
tempt should  be  made  to  extract  them  by  force,  or 
you  would  be  apt  only  to  extract  what  you  had 
yourself  put  in.  If  the  critic  be  on  his  guard,  both 
as  regards  himself  and  the  author,  these  literary 
productions  will  afford  him  more  than  mere  literary 
insight ;  for  the  ideas  and  sentiments  expressed  be- 
long to  the  statesman,  and  not  to  him  in  his  charac- 
ter of  novelist  alone ;  they  are  the  outcome  of  his 


Introduction.  5 

whole  character  as  a  man,  which  is  the  common 
source  and  deepest  spring  of  his  political  and  liter- 
ary gifts. 

It  will  be  my  endeavour  to  apply  a  literary-criti- 
cal method  to  the  present  Prime  Minister  of  Eng- 
land. The  study  of  the  statesman  Lord  Beacons- 
field,  through  the  novelist  Benjamin  Disraeli,  is 
attractive  to  me.  Complete  materials  for  the  task  I 
do  not  possess,  as  I  write  of  a  man  still  living,  and 
whom  I  have  only  seen  and  heard  from  a  distance, 
as  many  others  have  seen  and  heard  him,  and  for 
knowledge  of  whom  not  a  single  special  source  is 
open  to  me.  After  careful  perusal  of  what  already 
exists  on  the  subject,  I  hope  that  my  method  of 
treating  it  will  be  found  new.  Lord  Beaconsfield's 
writings  have  not  yet  been  made  the  subject  of  con- 
scientious study,  unbiassed  by  party  spirit.  The 
portrait  of  the  author  has  been  painted  in  turn 
by  Whigs  and  Tories,  political  foes  and  political 
friends,  and  hate  or  partisanship  has  mingled  the 
colours.  To  me  Disraeli  is  neither  an  object  of  ad- 
miration nor  dislike,  but  simply  a  highly  original 
and  interesting  character;  and  after  long  study  of 
it,  I  have  not  been  able  to  resist  the  desire  to  re- 
produce it  on  paper. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  FAMILY. 

IT  is  only  in  royal  and  ancient  noble  families,  in 
which  the  records  of  a  long  series  of  ancestors  has 
been  carefully  preserved,  that  it  is  possible  to  trace 
with  certainty  the  qualities  inherited  by  an  indi- 
vidual, and  to  follow  the  combinations  and  trans- 
formations which  the  mental  faculties  of  the  race 
have  experienced  in  the  course  of  time.  Of  the  an- 
cestors of  eminent  personages  we  generally  know 
too  few,  and  of  the  personages  themselves  too  little, 
to  study  the  process  of  the  formation  of  their  char- 
acters in  the  family. 

Benjamin  Disraeli  is  a  descendant  of  one  of  the 
Jewish  families  compelled  by  the  Spanish  Inquisi- 
tion to  leave  the  Peninsula  towards  the  end  of  the 
fifteenth  century.  These  families,  who,  although 
expelled  from  Palestine,  had  never  wandered  from 
the  originally  civilized  countries  of  ancient  times — 
those  in  the  Mediterranean  basin,  and  who  had 
never  been  exposed  to  a  rigid  climate  uncongenial 
to  the  race,  formed  for  a  long  time  the  natural  aris- 

7 


8  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

tocracy  of  the  Jewish  people.  They  had  resided, 
happy  and  respected,  partly  in  the  large  cities,  part- 
ly on  their  estates  in  Aragon,  Andalusia,  and  Por- 
tugal, for  the  acquisition  of  landed  property  was 
not  then  denied  to  them.  Fanaticism  afterwards 
deprived  them,  by  one  blow,  of  all  their  rights  and 
hopes.  Lord  Beaconsfield's  ancestors,  therefore, 
took  refuge  in  the  Venetian  Republic,  and,  accord- 
ing to  a  family  tradition,  as  soon  as  they  trod  the 
soil  of  Venice,  renounced  their  Spanish  name,  and 
"  from  gratitude  to  the  God  of  Jacob,  who  had  led 
them  through  unexampled  trials,  and  unheard-of 
dangers,"  took  the  name  of  d' Israeli,  by  which  the 
family  was  henceforth  to  be  known.  It  grew  and 
flourished  without  let  or  hindrance  for  more  than 
two  hundred  years. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  a 
member  of  the  family  resolved  to  send  his  youngest 
son,  Benjamin,  to  England,  which  seemed  then  to 
secure  religious  liberty  to  the  Jews,  and  offered  a 
favourable  opening  for  commercial  undertakings  on 
a  large  scale.  Religious  liberty,  however,  was  nei- 
ther of  long  standing  nor  complete  in  England.  The 
Jews  had  been  expelled  from  the  country  long  be- 
fore they  had  been  driven  from  Spain  or  Portugal. 
They  were  only  tolerated  from  the  reign  of  Wil- 
liam the  Conqueror  to  that  of  Richard  Cceur  de 
Lion ;  cruel  persecutions  then  broke  out,  until, 


The  Family.  9 

in  1290,  the  accusation  which  we  meet  with  during 
all  the  Middle  Ages,  that  they  used  the  blood 
of  slaughtered  Christian  children  at  their  Easter 
sacrifices,  caused  them  to  be  so  ill  treated  and 
plundered  that  they  finally  had  to  leave  the  coun- 
try. 

A  ballad  in  Percy's  "  Old  English  Ballads  "  shows 
that  the  popular  fancy  was  constantly  occupied  with 
the  banished  race ;  these  fellow-countrymen  and 
murderers  of  the  Redeemer,  though  the  people  had 
never  seen  them,  became  bloodthirsty  monsters  in 
their  eyes ;  and  in  English  literature,  Marlowe's 
Barabbas  and  Shakespeare's  Shylock  are  memorials 
of  the  superstitious  disgust  and  terror  which  they 
inspired  up  to  the  period  of  the  Renaissance.  The 
"  Jew  of  Malta  "  was,  to  a  certain  extent,  the  pattern 
for  his  fellow  in  the  "  Merchant  of  Venice."  There 
was  good  reason,  in  both  cases,  for  laying  the  scene 
in  the  countries  bordering  on  the  Mediterranean, 
for  there  were  scarcely  any  Jews  in  England.  But 
it  was  with  less  reason  that  in  both  dramas  the 
southern  Jew  is  represented  as  a  type  of  cruelty ; 
for  while  on  the  stage  in  England  he  poisoned  his 
daughter  and  whetted  his  knife  to  slay  his  creditor, 
thousands  of  the  race,  of  both  sexes,  in  Spain  and 
Portugal,  chose  rather  to  suffer  martyrdom  at  the 
stake  than  to  abjure  the  faith  of  their  fathers.  The 
most  sorely  tried  martyrs  of  that  age  were  repre- 
i* 


IO  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

sented  on  the  English  stage  as  murderers  and  hang- 
men.* 

It  was  not  until  the  time  of  the  Commonwealth 
that,  protected  by  Cromwell  himself,  though  not  by 
any  law,  the  Jews  began  to  return  to  England.  Un- 
der George  II.,  the  Minister,  Lord  Pelham,  was  fav- 
ourable to  them,  and  during  his  ministry,  Benjamin 
d'Israeli,  the  grandfather  and  namesake  of  Lord 
Beaconsfield,  became,  in  the  year  1748,  an  English 
citizen,  without  civil  rights.  His  wife,  who  be- 
longed to  a  family  which  had  suffered  much  from 
persecution,  and  who  was  vain  and  ambitious,  was 
ashamed  of  her  Jewish  origin,  and  by  an  ignoble, 
but  not  uncommon  association  of  ideas,  transferred 
her  embitterment  at  belonging  to  a  despised  caste 
from  the  oppressors  to  the  oppressed.  Meanwhile, 
her  energetic  husband  quickly  made  a  fortune, 
bought  an  estate,  laid  out  a  garden  in  the  Italian 
style,  entertained  company,  ate  maccaroni  prepared 
by  the  Venetian  consul  in  London,  played  whist, 
sang  canzonets,  and,  "  in  spite  of  a  wife  who  never 
forgave  him  his  name,  and  a  son  who  thwarted  all 
his  plans,"  he  lived  vigorous  and  happy  till  he  was 
nearly  ninety  years  of  age. 

In  seeking  precursors  of  the  characteristics  of  the 
grandson,  our  attention  is  involuntarily  arrested  by 

*  "  Studienreisen    in    England,"  p.    272,   von    Jul.    Rodenberg. 
"Curiosities  of  Literature,"  introd.,  by  Isaac  d'Israeli. 


The  Family.  II 

the  picture  which  he  himself  has  given  us  of  his 
grandfather.  He  was  a  man  of  warm  blood,  san- 
guine, enterprising,  and  successful,  with  a  tempera- 
ment never  ruffled  by  disappointment,  and  a  brain 
ever  fertile  in  resources,  even  when  one  disaster  fol- 
lowed quickly  upon  another. 

It  had  always  been  the  hope  of  this  ambitious 
and  practical  merchant,  who  was,  in  1815,  a  rival  of 
the  house  of  Rothschild,  to  found  a  finance  dynas- 
ty ;  but  this  favourite  scheme  was  frustrated  by  the 
exclusively  literary  tastes  of  his  only  son.  Isaac 
d'Israeli  (as  he  wrote  his  name)  grew  up  misunder- 
stood by  both  his  parents,  and  without  ever  having 
a  good  word  from  his  mother,  who  foresaw  a  life  of 
humiliation  for  her  son.  His  first  poem  excited 
real  terror  in  his  parents'  house.  He  was  sent  to 
school  in  Amsterdam,  in  order  that  he  might  forget 
his  poetic  fancies ;  but  the  school-master,  a  negli- 
gent man,  lived  and  moved  in  the  atmosphere  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  and  had  a  large  library  of  the 
authors  of  that  age,  which  young  d'Israeli  eagerly 
devoured.  Before  he  was  fifteen  he  had  read  Vol- 
taire, and  tried  his  strength  on  Bayle ;  at  eighteen 
he  returned  to  England,  a  disciple  of  Rousseau. 
His  stay  at  home  was  but  short.  His  father  told 
him  that  he  had  decided  to  send  him  away  again — 
this  time  to  a  large  mercantile  house  at  Bordeaux. 
The  incorrigible  literary  son  answered  that  he  had 


12  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

written  a  great  poem  against  trade  as  the  ruin  of 
mankind.  Instead  of  Bordeaux,  he  contented  him- 
self with  going  to  Paris,  where,  until  1788,  he  spent 
his  time  in  libraries  and  among  savans.  In  Eng- 
land, he  soon  after  began  to  publish  poetical  at- 
tempts, as  well  as  those  annals,  or  rather  anecdotes 
of  literature,  which  made  his  name  as  an  author, 
though  they  are  remarkable  neither  for  spirit  nor 
accuracy. 

The  character  of  the  quiet  man  of  letters  and 
bookworm  forms  in  many  respects  a  marked  con- 
trast to  that  of  his  son.  At  first  sight,  it  is  like  the 
contrast  between  a  learned  Benedictine  monk  in  his 
quiet  cell,  and  a  restless  tribune,  whose  life  is  passed 
amidst  the  turmoil  of  the  forum.  Isaac  d'Israeli 
was  of  a  shy  and  retiring  nature ;  in  his  youth  he 
was  inclined  to  melancholy ;  in  manhood  he  was  a 
collector;  as  an  old  man  he  was  given  up  to  con- 
templation, too  critical  to  be  satisfied  with  his  own 
performances,  and  too  retiring  ever  to  gain  confi- 
dence in  himself.  Not  even  his  growing  reputation 
could  give  it  him,  for  he  best  knew  his  own  short- 
comings, and  he  felt  an  inward  schism  between  him- 
self and  the  spirit  of  the  age.  In  a  literary  point  of 
view,  he  stood  in  England  beneath  a  waning  star; 
he  was  a  disciple  of  Pope  and  Boileau.  Neverthe- 
less, he  saw  the  necessity,  even  by  reason  of  his  early 
enthusiasm  for  Rousseau,  of  giving  more  scope  and 


The  Family.  13 

freer  play  to  nature  and  passion  in  poetry,  without, 
on  the  other  hand,  possessing  the  powers  of  mind 
which  would  have  enabled  him  to  anticipate  the 
coming  change  in  English  poetry.  When  the  great 
naturalistic  revolution  in  the  literature  of  England 
was  proclaimed  and  carried  out  by  others,  he  was  no 
longer  young  or  pliant  enough  to  take  part  in  the 
movement.  He  lived  for  literature,  but  when  he 
was  young  literature  was  old,  and  when  he  was  old 
it  had  renewed  its  youth.  The  results  of  this  dis- 
crepancy were,  on  the  one  hand,  the  continual  secret 
distrust  of  his  own  powers,  which  is  a  weakness ;  on 
the  other,  utter  absence  of  vanity,  always  rare,  and 
especially  so  in  an  author.  Neither  the  weakness 
nor  the  virtue  was  inherited  by  his  famous  son.  The 
simple  bookworm  produced  a  self-confident  bravado, 
who  has  had  both  adroitness  enough  to  conform  to 
the  powers  that  be,  and  power  so  to  transform  the 
tendencies  of  the  age,  that  they  have  taken  the 
stamp  of  his  mind  and  will. 

Even  in  outward  things  there  is  a  contrast  be- 
tween father  and  son.  Isaac  d'Israeli  lived  in  seclu- 
sion. When  at  heme,  although  a  married  man,  he 
generally  spent  the  whole  day  and  evening  in  his 
library ;  his  only  diversion  in  London  was  going 
from  one  bookseller's  to  another.  It  would  be 
scarcely  possible  to  imagine  a  greater  contrast  than 
his  son,  who  bears  the  complete  stamp  of  a  man  of 


14  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

the  world.  But  the  contrast  is  still  more  striking 
when  they  are  compared  in  their  relations  to  politics. 
The  father  not  only  never  took  part  in  politics,  he 
did  not  even  understand  them.  It  is  clear  that  the 
son  did  not  inherit  his  practical  political  vocation 
from  his  father. 

And  yet  nature  was  experimenting  with  Isaac 
d'Israeli's  mind,  and  laying  the  foundations  for  lar- 
ger abilities.  First,  his  literary  studies  and  tastes 
were  of  great  importance  for  his  son.  Nothing 
tends  more  to  easy  and  rapid  acquisition  of  faculty 
in  the  use  of  language  than  a  literary  forerunner  in 
the  race.  Then  some  of  the  deepest  primary  facul- 
ties in  Benjamin  Disraeli's  mind  are  obviously  de- 
rived from  his  father.  He  was,  in  many  respects,  a 
genuine  child  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  every- 
thing in  his  son's  mind  which  is  in  unison  with  the 
character  and  style  of  that  age  was  inherited  in  a 
direct  line.  In  a  literary  point  of  view,  the  father 
was  not  much  more  than  a  living  lexicon  of  authors, 
but  a  lexicon  of  the  times  of  the  Encyclopaedists ; 
he  had  early  laid  aside  the  prejudices  of  his  contem- 
poraries, in  order  to  imbibe  they*  philosophy,  and 
was  a  decided,  though  quiet  free-thinker,  destitute 
of  a  creed  both  in  the  literal  or  intellectual  sense  of 
the  word.  In  1833  ne  published  a  work  called  "  The 
Genius  of  Judaism,"  in  which  he  ridicules,  from  a 
deistic  standpoint,  the  Israelitish  constitution  of  the 


The  Family.  15 

Mosaic  laws  and  regulations  about  health  and  food, 
regarded  as  revealed  and  eternal  truth.  He  long 
entertained  a  project  of  writing  a  history  of  the 
English  free-thinkers.  He  was  all  his  life  an  unpre- 
judiced sceptic,  with  a  tendency  to  sarcastic  wit. 

This  keen  and  negative  quality  is  also  the  first 
to  show  itself  in  the  son.  The  mystical  and  roman- 
tic Benjamin  Disraeli  begins  as  a  satirist.  The  first 
part  of  "Vivian  Grey,"  "  Popanilla,"  "  Ixion  in 
Heaven,"  and  "The  Infernal  Marriage,"  are  so 
many  satires  in  the  spirit  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
"  Vivian  Grey  "  is  a  type  for  Beaumarchais  ;  "  Popa- 
nilla," a  fantastic  journey  in  Swift's  style ;  the  family 
descent  of  the  two  mythological  tales  is  to  be  traced 
to  no  less  a  person  than  Lucian  ;  they  would  cer- 
tainly not  disgrace  Voltaire,  of  whom  they  remind 
one,  and  might,  without  profanation,  be  set  to  music 
by  Offenbach,  so  blasphemous  are  they  against  the 
gods  of  Greece.  We  should  not  understand  any- 
thing of  the  character  of  Benjamin  Disraeli  if  we 
overlooked  the  fact  that  even  his  theories  and  fan- 
tasies, which  bear  the  strongest  impress  of  the  great 
romantic  reaction,  had  been,  without  exception, 
disinfected  by  born  scepticism  and  early  developed 
critical  faculty.  Even  in  his  castles  in  the  air,  you 
do  not  find  the  malaria  arising  from  the  Maremmas 
of  superstition  and  prejudice;  they  are  the  Fata 
Morganas  of  the  desert,  the  products,  consciously 


1 6  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

constructed,  of  an  arid  and  fiery  fantasy ;  by  careful 
observation  they  may  be  easily  distinguished  from 
the  structures  of  dreamland  and  reverie,  which 
owe  their  existence  to  naive  and  thorough  mysti- 
cism. 

Not  only  the  critical  and  negative,  but  also  the 
positive,  romantic,  Conservative  tendencies  of  Ben- 
jamin Disraeli  are  derived  from  his  father.  The  old 
litterateur,  although  Radical  in  a  religious  sense,  had 
an  instinctive  liking  for  the  Tory  way  of  thinking. 
He  was  attracted  by  the  house  of  Stuart;  he  laboured 
for  five  years  on  his  work  on  the  reign  of  Charles  I., 
and  received  for  it  an  Oxford  diploma,  with  the 
dedication,  "  Optimi  regis  optimo  vindici  ;  "  he  con- 
sidered his  work  on  James  I.  a  literary  matter  of 
conscience.  In  both  cases  it  was  his  conviction  that 
he  was  the  vindicator  of  men  who  had  been  mis- 
understood, but  it  was  not  mere  accident  that  they 
were  both  crowned  heads  who  coveted  absolute 
power,  and  were  defeated  in  the  struggle  with  Puri- 
tanism and  parliament.  The  son  has  followed  in 
his  father's  footsteps  in  these  sympathies ;  in  sundry 
passages  in  his  writings  he  has  broken  a  lance  for 
the  Stuarts ;  he  has  adopted  and  defended  the  title 
of  "  martyr "  for  Charles  I.,  and  he  even  says,  in 
"  Sybil,"  that  never  did  a  man  die  a  hero's  death  for 
a  greater  cause — the  cause  of  the  Church  and  the 
poor.  That  these  two  unpopular  monarchs  of  for- 


The  Family.  \f 

mer  times  were  dissenters  from  the  dominant  relig- 
ion has,  perhaps,  conduced  to  ensure  sympathy  with 
authors  who  sprung  from  a  dissenting  body.  It  is 
plain,  however,  that  the  younger  Disraeli,  however 
little  Conservative  when  he  first  appeared  as  a  poli- 
tician, was  not  influenced  by  political  Radicalism  in 
the  parental  home.  With  the  Voltairean  opinions 
which  then  prevailed  in  good  society,  he  received, 
much  earlier,  some  germs  of  decided  Toryism, 
germs  which  were  enveloped  in  a  certain  spirit  of 
opposition  to  the  popular  conception  of  the  politi- 
cal history  of  England,  but  which,  under  favourable 
circumstances,  were  strong  enough  to  develop  them- 
selves. 

We  know  too  little  of  Disraeli's  mother  to  judge 
what  qualities  he  may  have  inherited  from  her. 
She  died  after  forty-five  years  of  married  life,  in  her 
seventy-second  year.  He  seems  to  consider  that  he 
derived  his  faculties  exclusively  from  the  paternal 
side.  And  we  find  in  the  practical  energy  and  en- 
terprising character  of  the  grandfather,  the  com- 
plement of  the  purely  literary  and  contemplative 
nature  of  the  father,  which  seems  to  be  neces- 
sary to  weld  and  polish  the  practical  and  literary 
gifts  of  a  descendant  of  the  race  into  a  two-edged 
sword. 

As  the  son  of  Isaac  d'Israeli,  the  future  states- 
man was  born  not  only  with  a  certain  range  of  qual- 


1 8  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

ities,  but  in  a  somewhat  exceptional  social  posi- 
tion. Authors  then  enjoyed  higher  consideration 
in  Great  Britain  than  now,  and  the  elder  d' Israeli 
had  a  popular  and  respected  name.  Besides  his  col- 
leagues, among  whom  the  poet  and  epicure  Samuel 
Rogers  was  his  friend,  he  was  acquainted  with  many 
of  the  enlightened  politicians  and  aristocrats  of  the 
day.  The  son,  therefore,  from  his  youth  saw  many 
distinguished  men  and  women  in  his  father's  house, 
and  the  father's  name  opened  many  an  aristocratic 
house  to  the  son.  The  advantage  generally  enjoyed 
by  the  born  aristocrat  alone  of  having  in  early 
youth  made  acquaintances  and  connections  which 
are  otherwise  the  reward  of  long  years  of  labour, 
was  richly  enjoyed  by  the  young  Disraeli.  In  his 
youthful  works  there  are  now  and  then  traces  that 
he  was  not  unaware  of  the  advantage  of  having 
such  a  father.  Vivian  Grey  likes  to  hear  his  famous 
father  praised ;  in  the  "  Young  Duke "  Disraeli 
dwells  on  the  benefit,  even  to  a  boy,  of  having  a 
living  proof  that  the  family  blood  is  good  for  some- 
thing, and  says :  "  There  is  no  pride  like  the  pride 
of  ancestry,  for  it  is  a  blending  of  all  emotions." 
And  while  the  author  seems  involuntarily  to  be 
comparing  his  lot  with  that  of  the  aristocracy,  he 
continues :  "  How  immeasurably  superior  to  the 
herd  is  the  man  whose  father  only  is  famous  !  Im- 
agine, then,  the  feelings  of  one  who  can  trace  his 


The  Family.  19 

line  through   a  thousand   years   of  heroes   and    of 
princes !  "  * 

Disraeli's  singular  pride  of  ancestry  goes  far  be- 
yond pride  in  his  distinguished  father ;  but  while  his 
descent  was  necessarily  only  a  disadvantage  to  him 
in  a  worldly  point  of  view,  and  was  the  chief  obsta- 
cle in  his  path,  his  position  as  his  father's  son  gave 
.him  the  start  in  the  course  offered  him  by  destiny  in 
the  great  European  race  for  fame  and  distinction. 


*  "  The  Young  Duke,"  p.  88. 

NOTE. — The  edition  referred  to  throughout  is  Lord  Beaconsfield's 
Novels  and  Tales  in  10  vols.  Great  pains  have  been  taken  to  find 
all  the  quotations,  but  as  in  many  cases  no  references  are  given  in 
the  original  work,  a  few  very  short  ones  have  eluded  me,  and  may 
not  be  quite  verbatim. — TR. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BOYHOOD. 

BENJAMIN  DISRAELI  himself  gives  1805  as  the 
year  of  his  birth,  but  he  really  seems  to  have  been 
born  on  2ist  of  December,  1804.*  His  mother, 
Maria  Basevi,  bore  first  a  daughter,  Sarah,  th^n 
three  sons,  of  whom  he  was  the  eldest.  He  was 
received  into  the  Jewish  community;  but  when 
his  father  afterwards  separated  himself  from  it — if 
report  speaks  truly — he  gave  his  friend  Samuel 
Rogers  leave  to  take  him  to  church  and  have  him 
baptized.  Rogers  was  totally  indifferent  to  religion, 
but  it  seemed  to  him  a  pity — so  it  is  said — that  this 
fine,  intelligent  boy  should  be  excluded  by  his  creed 
from  the  most  important  civil  rightSv  and  highest 
social  advantages.  Anyhow,  the  baptism  took  place 
in  the  parish  of  St.  Andrews,  on  3ist  of  July,  1817. 
In  the  church  registers,  Benjamin  Disraeli  is  spoken 
of  as  "  about  twelve  years  old." 

He  was  sent  to  a  private  school  at  Winchester, 
and  was  afterwards  placed  for  a  short  time  in  a 


*  Picciotto  :  "  Sketches  of  Anglo-Jewish  History,"  p.  300. 

20 


Boyhood.  21 

lawyer's  office.  All  desired  information  as  to  his 
inner  life  in  his  boyhood  and  early  youth  may  be 
found  in  his  novels.  We  learn  from  "  Vivian  Grey  " 
and  "Contarini  Fleming,"  which  contain  unmis- 
takable autobiographical  elements  relating  to  these 
years,  what  we  should  expect,  that  in  this  early 
period  of  Disraeli's  life  humiliations  abounded  as 
well  as  triumphs.  In  both  books  the  hero  is  the  de- 
cided favourite  among  the  boys,  from  his  abilities, 
his  boldness,  and  his  talents  as  a  leader,  and  is  ac- 
knowledged, so  to  speak,  unanimously,  as  the  clev- 
erest and  most  original  boy  in  the  school.  His 
English  essays  and  verses  are  admired  and  copied. 
In  short,  he  is  the  popular  hero,  while  he  regards 
his  schoolfellows  as  beings  whom  he  is  resolved  to 
rule.  But  behind  all  this  popularity,  the  possibility 
of  a  general  hatred  is  concealed,  not  only  the  envy 
which  always  pursues  success,  but  fierce  ill  will  of  a 
special  kind,  brutal  in  its  origin,  and  cruel  in  its  ex- 
ercise— in  a  word,  the  hatred  of  race.  When  the 
usher's  dislike  to  Vivian  Grey  first  breaks  out,  he 
uses  the  expression,  "  seditious  stranger ;  "  and  no 
sooner  has  the  word  been  given,  than  his  schoolfel- 
lows join  in  with,  "  No  stranger  !  no  stranger !  "  * 
This  expression  does  not  find  its  motive  in  the 
book,  for  in  no  sense  of  the  word  can  Vivian  Grey 

*  "Vivian  Grey,"  p.  9. 


22  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

be  called  a  stranger  in  the  school.  The  word  has 
obviously  crept  into  the  novel  from  some  reminis- 
cence of  the  author's  childhood  ;  only  it  was  not  the 
word  used  in  reality,  which  more  decidedly  pointed 
to  a  foreign  nationality,  and  sounded  far  more  con- 
temptuous. 

On  this  subject,  "Contarini  Fleming"  comes  still 
nearer  the  truth,  in  which  the  hero,  with  his  south- 
ern appearance  and  Italian  descent,  finds  himself 
unhappy  among  his  fair  half-brothers  in  the  north. 
"  They  were  called  my  brothers,  but  Nature  gave 
the  lie  to  the  reiterated  assertion.  There  was  no 
similitude  between  us.  Their  blue  eyes,  their  flaxen 
hair,  and  their  white  visages,  claimed  no  kindred 
with  my  Venetian  countenance.  Wherever  I  moved 
I  looked  around  me,  and  beheld  a  race  different 
from  myself.  There  was  no  sympathy  between  my 
frame  and  the  rigid  clime  whither  I  had  been 
brought  to  live."* 

If  we  add  to  the  Venetian  type  the  still  deeper 
Israelitish  stamp,  and  to  the  national  contrast  the 
religious  prejudice  as  it  existed  in  an  English  school 
in  1820,  we  shall  be  able  to  form  an  idea  of  Dis- 
raeli's feelings  when  he  emerged  from  his  father's 
house  into  boy's  estate,  and  found  that  he  was  not 
looked  upon  as  an  equal,  but  as  a  "  foreigner  "  of 

.*  "Contarini  Fleming,"  p.  5. 


Boyhood.  23 

lower  caste.  Such  an  impression  in  those  early 
years  is  one  of  the  deepest  which  can  be  received — 
one  of  those  never  effaced  from  sensitive  and  aristo- 
cratic minds.  To  feel  yourself  disgraced  .without 
being  conscious  of  any  fault !  To  be  looked  down 
upon  because  of  your  appearance,  your  father,  your 
people,  your  religion,  your  race !  A  poor  boy  among 
rich  ones,  an  illegitimate  child  among  legitimate,  a 
Catholic  among  Protestants,  a  deformed  boy  among 
well-grown  schoolfellows,  feels  himself,  each  in  his 
own  way,  thrust  aside  and  humiliated.  But  a  Jew- 
ish boy  in  a  Christian  school  of  the  old-fashioned 
sort  felt  something  of  what  all  these  feel  put  to- 
gether. He  learnt  for  the  first  time  that  he  was  a 
Jew,  and  all  that  the  name  implies.  He  discovered 
that  he  was  not  reckoned  as  one  of  the  people 
among  whom  he  lived,  had  no  part  in  the  deeds  of 
their  forefathers  or  in  their  history,  but  was  an  iso- 
lated being:  and  yet  was  constantly  thrown  with 
others,  whom  he  did  not  know  and  had  never  seen 
before ;  who  regarded  him  as  ugly,  nay,  even  repul- 
sive ;  to  whom  his  mode  of  speaking  was  ridiculous, 
nay,  even  repugnant ;  and  who  pointed  at  him  the 
finger  of  scorn.  In  the  reading  lessons,  a  Jew  was 
inevitably  a  ridiculous,  vulgar,  or  mean  and  avari- 
cious person,  a  cheat,  a  usurer,  or  a  coward.  And  in 
the  same  class,  or  one  close  by,  there  was  sure  to  be 
another  boy  of  Jewish  origin,  whose  countenance 


24  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

was  branded  with  the  mark  of  slavery,  abject  and 
degraded  to  the  last  degree,  made  to  be  a  scapegoat 
and  clown  ;  and  at  every  blow  struck  at  this  poor 
wretch,  he  felt  his  own  cheek  burn,  and  every  das- 
tardly act  of  his  was  felt  to  be  his  own  shame.  Even 
when,  by  severe  struggles,  he  had  won  comparative 
immunity  for  himself,  he  had  not  the  slightest  power 
to  protect  his  brother  Jew,  or  to  secure  this  carica- 
ture of  himself  from  general  contempt  and  brutality. 
And  why  should  he  suffer  all  this?  Not  at  home, 
but  at  school  did  he  find  the  answer.  His  people, 
who  once  in  far  distant  ages  were  the  blest  and  cho- 
sen people,  were  now  cursed  and  rejected,  were  suf- 
fering the  penalty  for  a  crime  committed  by  their 
fathers  nearly  two  thousand  years  ago.  O  igno- 
miny !  Unconsciously  and  against  his  will,  to  be- 
long to  this  despised  and  accursed  nation  !  Was  not 
his  grandmother  at  Enfield  in  the  right  in  denying 
her  kinship  with  them ;  and  was  it  not  the  most  nat- 
ural thing  in  the  world  to  hate  them  himself,  and 
thus  to  acquire  the  right  to  be  considered  an  excep- 
tion? 

But  this  question  could  not  be  seriously  enter- 
tained ;  for  see  all  these  scornful  looks,  these  mock- 
ing, disdainful  glances ;  listen  to  this  calling  of 
names  behind  your  back,  to  these  challenges  which 
must  be  accepted  and  outbidden.  In  both  the 
above-named  youthful  novels  of  Disraeli,  the  hero 


Boyhood.  2$ 

has  in  his  school  days  a  great  decisive  fight  with  a 
boy  put  forward  by  the  hatred  of  a  whole  clique. 
In  both  he  considers  that  a  great  wrong  has  been 
done  him,  and  in  both  he  takes  revenge.  But  in  his 
method  of  doing  it,  the  character  of  the  author  is 
revealed  no  less  plainly  than  that  of  the  hero.  Vi- 
vian Grey  revenges  himself  on  the  faithless  com- 
rades who  have  left  him  in  the  lurch  with  a  tyran- 
nical teacher,  by  a  method  projected  in  cold  blood 
and  relentlessly  carried  out.  In  the  next  half-year 
he  gains  favour  with  this  teacher,  employs  him  first 
as  an  instrument  of  torture  for  the  other  boys,  and 
in  the  end  gives  him  up  to  them  as  a  victim,  while 
he  keeps  them  off  from  himself  with  a  loaded  pistol. 
He  leaves  the  school,  saying  that  if  he  could  devise 
a  new  and  exquisite  method  of  torture  he  would  ap- 
ply it  to  this  teacher,  who  was  the  first  to  apply  the 
word  "stranger"  to  him.  Contarini  Fleming  re- 
venges himself  with  less  forethought,  but  not  the 
less  completely.  He  does  it  in  a  boxing  match  with 
a  much  bigger  boy ;  he  falls  upon  him  like  a  wild 
beast,  and  throws  him  to  the  ground.  Consider  the 
following  passage : — "  He  was  up  again  in  a  mo- 
ment ;  and  indeed,  I  would  not  have  waited  for 
their  silly  rules  of  mock  conduct,  but  have  destroyed 
him  in  his  prostration.  But  he  was  up  again  in  a 
moment."  * 

•  *  "Contarini  Fleming,"  p.  37. 


26  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

How  characteristic  is  this  turn !  .Contarini  does 
not  respect  the  accepted  rules  of  the  combat,  any 
more  than  Vivian  shrinks  from  deception  as  a 
means ;  thirst  for  revenge  in  both  cases  is  so  keen 
that  it  causes  all  other  considerations  to  be  forgot- 
ten. Read  Contarini's  account  of  it : 

"  Again  I  flew  upon  him.  He  fought  with  subtle 
energy,  but  he  was  like  a  serpent  with  a  tiger.  I 
fixed  upon  him :  my  blows  told  with  the  rapid  pre- 
cision of  machinery.  His  bloody  visage  was  not  to 
be  distinguished.  I  believe  he  was  terrified  by  my 
frantic  air. 

"  I  would  never  wait  between  the  rounds.  I  cried 
out  in  a  voice  of  madness  for  him  to  come  on. 
There  was  breathless  silence.  They  were  thunder- 
struck. .  .  .  Each  time  that  he  came  forward  I 
made  the  same  dreadful  spring,  beat  down  his 
guard,  and  never  ceased  working  upon  his  head,  un- 
til at  length  my  fist  seemed  to  enter  his  very  brain  ; 
and,  after  ten  rounds,  he  fell  down  quite  blind. 
I  never  felt  his  blows ;  I  never  lost  my  breath. 

"  He  could  not  come  to  time.  I  rushed  forward ; 
I  placed  my  knee  upon  his  chest.  '  I  fight  no  more,' 
he  faintly  cried. 

"  '  Apologize  ! '  I  exclaimed — '  apologize ! '  He 
did  not  speak. 

"  '  By  heavens,  apologize  ! '  I  said,  '  or  I  know  not 
what  I  shall  do.' 


Boyhood.  27 

"  '  Never  ! '  he  replied. 

"  I  lifted  up  my  arm.  Some  advanced  to  inter- 
fere. '  Off ! '  I  shouted.  '  Off,  off  ! '  I  seized  the 
fallen  chief,  rushed  through  the  gate,  and  dragged 
him  like  Achilles  through  the  mead.  At  the  bot- 
tom there  was  a  dunghill.  Upon  it  I  flung  the  half- 
inanimate  body. 

"  I  strolled  away  to  one  of  my  favourite  haunts. 
I  was  calm  and  exhausted  ;  my  face  and  hands  were 
smeared  with  gore.  I  knelt  down  by  the  side  of  the 
stream,  and  drank  the  most  delicious  draught  that  I 
had  ever  quaffed."  * 

The  sweetness  of  the  draught  was  in  the  revenge 
— complete  revenge.  One  sees  the  natural  charac- 
ter of  this  first  brood  of  Disraeli's  boys.  There  is 
not  one  drop  of  the  milk  of  human  kindness  in  their 
blood — no  higher  law  than  an  eye  for  an  eye  in 
their  souls.  It  seems  as  if  these  young  fellows  had 
suffered  too  cruelly  in  early  childhood  to  be  able  to 
restore  their  equanimity  in  any  other  way  than  by 
procuring  inviolability  for  themselves  by  methods 
equally  cruel,  and  by  quaffing  long  and  repeated 
draughts  of  revenge. 

*  "  Contarini  Fleming,"  p.  37. 


CHAPTER  III. 

YOUTHFUL  AMBITION. 

BENJAMIN  DISRAELI  was,  by  the  general  consent 
of  his  contemporaries,  as  a  boy  and  youth,  very 
handsome.  He  had  long,  raven-black  locks ;  eyes 
sparkling  with  spirit  and  intelligence  ;  a  good  nose  ; 
a  mouth  round  which  there  was  a  restless,  nervous 
play ;  and  a  complexion  striking  from  its  romantic 
paleness.  He  was  everywhere  found  attractive,  and 
often  petted  both  by  men  and  women.  Men  were 
delighted  with  his  shrewd  questions  and  witty  re- 
plies ;  and  from  women  he  seems  to  have  early 
learnt  what  he  said  in  his  first  book,  when  scarcely 
twenty  years  of  age,  that  the  only  rival  which  a 
clever  man  has  to  fear  is  a  precocious  boy. 

What  was  going  on  meanwhile  in  the  restless 
mind  which  was  revealed  by  this  expressive  ex- 
terior? Wild  dreams,  passionate  affections,  long- 
ings for  knowledge,  and  paroxysms  of  thirst  for  learn- 
ing. Disraeli  shows  himself  in  his  earliest  works  so 
amazingly  precocious  in  worldly  wisdom,  in  fashion, 
and  in  penetrating,  sarcastic  observation,  that  an 

inattentive  reader  might  take  him  for  a  purely  out- 

28 


Youthful  Ambition.  29 

ward-bound  character,  who  had,  so  to  speak,  over- 
leapt  that  first  stage  of  development,  in  which  a 
youth  is  self-engrossed,  searches  deep  into  his  own 
heart,  weighs  his  capabilities  in  secret,  and  tries  the 
elasticity  and  extent  of  his  powers.  But  he  could 
not  really  have  escaped  any  of  it ;  it  only  appears 
so  because  he  passed  through  all  these  stages  with 
great  rapidity  as  a  boy,  while  with  many  Germanic 
natures  it  occupies  the  first  lustrum  of  manhood. 
Neither  vague  dreams,  fantastic  visions  of  the  future, 
doubt,  nor  lassitude  were  spared  him.  "  Contarini 
Fleming  "  is  witness  that  he  was  acquainted  with  it 
all ;  but  the  result  of  the  ordeal  was  as  favourable 
as  it  was  rapidly  attained.  His  brain  was  fertile, 
and  gave  birth  to  dreams,  fancies,  schemes,  intrigues, 
which  in  their  turn  gave  birth  to  new  ones.  "He 
was  full  of  courage ;  he  was  not  only  undaunted,  he 
sought  for  adventures,  and  the  intriguer  in  his  brain 
was  the  born  ally  of  the  adventurer  in  his  breast. 
The  result  of  his  self-examination  was  absolute 
confidence  in  his  powers  and  in  his  future.  Forti 
nihil  difficile,  the  words  which  Disraeli  inscribed 
upon  his  banners  at  his  first  election,  were,  long 
before  they  were  formulated  into  a  motto,  the 
watchword  which  coursed  with  the  blood  in  his 
veins. 

This   confidence   in   himself   is   a   feature  of  his 
character.     While  gifted  people,  doubtful  of  them- 


30  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

selves  have  to  contend  with  an  ever-recurring  dis- 
couragement, and  characters  in  which  the  moral 
element  predominates  are  always  trying  to  make 
new  conquests  in .  order  to  gain  self-esteem,  and 
cannot  feel  it  before  they  have  earned  it,  young 
Disraeli  felt  sure  of  his  abundant  resources,  lost  no 
time  in  listening  to  the  moral  lectures  of  the  inward 
monitor,  allowed  life  and  destiny — which  with  its 
smiles  and  frowns,  soon  seemed  to  him  the  most 
impressive  of  moralists — to  take  care  of  his  educa- 
tion, and,  from  his  first  entrance  on  man's  estate,  he 
felt  himself  to  be  an  object  of  respect  to  himself 
and  of  value  to  others. 

Wherever  a  fund  of  talent  exists,  there  is  a  cer- 
tain force  which  impels  it  to  develop  itself,  and  pre- 
vents the  individual  from  standing  still  by  continual 
excitement  of  the  faculties.  The  love  of  gain,  of 
acquisition,  was  a  force  of  this  kind  with  Disraeli's 
immediate  ancestors;  love  of  action  and  zeal  for 
reform  are  frequent  forms  of  it  with  persons  of  lit- 
erary or  political  tastes.  Let  us  inquire  what  was 
the  original  motive  power  in  his  case. 

There  is  a  very  convenient  psychological-critical 
method  which  has  often  been  applied  to  the  present 
Prime  Minister  of  England,  which  consists  of  identi- 
fying him  with  one  of  the  creations  of  his  own  brain, 
and  boldly  ascribing  to  him  every  sentiment  and 
every  dishonourable  thought  of  this  character ;  but 


Youthful  Ambition.  31 

criticism  requires  more  delicate  instruments  than 
such  biographers  employ. 

It  is  not  in  the  rough  outlines  of  a  work,  still  less 
in  the  moral  quality,  greater  or  less,  of  the  charac- 
ters described,  that  criticism  finds  vouchers  for  the 
ego  of  the  author ;  but  in  casual  expressions,  turns 
of  thought  which  serve  as  exemplifications ;  in  the 
choice  of  metaphors ;  in  lyrical  outbursts,  which  do 
not  belong  to  the  course  of  the  narrative,  but  which 
will  make  way  for  themselves  because  they  fill  the 
soul  of  the  writer,  and  he  is  unable  to  restrain  them. 

Suppose,  for  example,  that  an  author  has  been 
early  struck  with  the  impossibility  of  knowing  the 
human  soul  from  books,  and  wishes  to  illustrate  the 
opinion  by  instances;  we  may  be  sure  that  the  first 
examples  which  come  to  his  lips  will  be  those  with 
which  his  own  experience  has  furnished  him.  Dis- 
raeli exemplifies  it  as  follows: — "A  man  may  be 
constantly  searching  into  the  hearts  of  his  fellow 
men  in  his  study,  and  yet  have  no  idea  of  the  power 
of  ambition  or  the  strength  of  revenge."  Ambition 
is  the  first  example  that  occurs  to  him  ;  and  it  is 
this  passion  which,  in  all  his  early  writings,  is  the 
source  of  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  all  the  characters. 

In  "  Vivian  Grey  "  he  says :  "  For  a  moment  he 
mused  over  Power;  but  then  he,  shuddering,  shrank 
from  the  wearing  anxiety,  the  consuming  care,  the 
eternal  vigilance,  the  constant  contrivance,  the  ago- 


32  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

nizing  suspense,  the  distracting  vicissitudes  of  his 
past  career.  Alas!  it  is  our  nature  to  sicken  from 
our  birth  after  some  object  of  unattainable  felicity, 
to  struggle  through  the  freshest  years  of  our  life  in 
an  insane  pursuit  after  some  indefinite  good,  which 
does  not  even  exist !  .  .  .  We  dream  of  immortal- 
ity until  we  die.  Ambition  !  at  thy  proud  and  fatal 
altar  we  whisper  the  secrets  of  our  mighty  thoughts, 
and  breathe  the  aspirations  of  our  inexpressible  de- 
sires. A  clouded  flame  licks  up  the  offering  of  our 
ruined  souls,  and  the  sacrifice  vanishes  in  the  sable 
smoke  of  Death."  * 

One  hears  both  the  soaring  flight  and  the  melan- 
choly of  ambition  in  this  lament.  Will  it  succeed  ? 
Will  my  powers  be  equal  to  it?  We  find  these 
questionings  now  and  then  in  Disraeli's  earliest 
works,  but  far  more  frequently  as  to  the  issue  than 
as  to  his  own  powers.  In  "  The  Young  Duke " 
there  is  a  page  where  the  narrator  suddenly  steps 
out  of  the  book,  and,  with  youthful  want  of  self- 
restraint,  entertains  the  reader  with  an  account  of 
the  place  where  he  writes,  of  himself,  and  his  inner 
life: 

"  Amid  the  ruins  of  eternal  Rome  I  scribble  pages 
lighter  than  the  wind,  and  feed  with  fancies  volumes 
which  will  be  forgotten  ere  I  can  hear  that  they  are 

"  Vivian  Grey,"  p.  356. 


Youthful  Ambition.  ^33 

even  published.  Yet  am  I  not  one  insensible  to 
the  magic  of  my  memorable  abode,  and  I  could 
pour  my  passion  o'er  the  land  ;  but  I  repress  my 
thoughts,  and  beat  their  tide  back  to  their  hollow 
caves.  .  .  . 

"  For  I  am  one,  though  young,  yet  old  enough  to 
know  Ambition  is  a  demon ;  and  I  fly  from  what 
I  fear.  And  Fame  has  eagle  wings,  and  yet  she 
mounts  not  so  high  as  man's  desires.  .  .  . 

"  Could  we  but  drag  the  purple  from  the  hero's 
heart ;  could  we  but  tear  the  laurel  from  the  poet's 
throbbing  brain,  and  read  their  doubts,  their  dan- 
gers, their  despair,  we  might  learn  a  greater  lesson 
than  we  shall  ever  acquire  by  musing  over  their  ex- 
ploits or  their  inspiration.  Think  of  unrecognized 
Caesar,  with  his  wasting  youth,  weeping  over  the 
Macedonian's  young  career?  Could  Pharsalia  com- 
pensate for  those  withering  pangs  ? 

"  View  the  obscure  Napoleon  starving  in  the 
streets  of  Paris !  What  was  St.  Helena  to  the  bit- 
terness of  such  existence  ?  The  visions  of  past  glory 
might  illumine  even  that  dark  imprisonment ;  but 
to  be  conscious  that  his  supernatural  energies  might 
die  away  without  creating  their  miracles:  can  the 
wheel  or  the  rack  rival  the  torture  of  such  a  sus- 
picion ?  "  * 

*  "  Young  Duke,"  p.  82. 


34,  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

This  direct  address  is  out  of  all  connection  with 
the  book,  and  forms,  with  its  pathetic  lyrical  flight, 
a  remarkable  contrast  to  the  fashionable,  and,  now 
and  then,  affected  frivolous  tone  of  the  novel.  The 
words  were  keenly  felt,  and  it  was  hard  to  suppress 
them.  As  one  who  is  possessed  of  some  secret  can- 
not sometimes  deny  himself  the  satisfaction  of  giv- 
ing a  hint  of  it  in  some  way  not  observed  by  others, 
though  his  interest  is  deeply  involved  in  its  conceal- 
ment, the  young  author  apparently  could  not  refrain 
from  producing  an  effect  by  tearing  the  mask  of  the 
elegant  author  from  his  face  in  one  passage  of  his 
book,  and  suddenly  disclosing  to  the  reader  his  real 
visage,  furrowed  by  the  sufferings  and  temptations 
of  ambition. 

Ambition  as  such  is  not  immoral ;  it  is  in  itself 
neither  moral  nor  immoral,  but  natural,  and  it  only 
receives  a  moral  impress  from  its  means  and  ends. 
It  varies  according  to  whether  its  object  is  chiefly 
fame  or  power.  In  Disraeli's  case,  desire  for  fame 
and  love  of  power  were  both  direct  products  of  his 
self-esteem,  though  they  were  scarcely  of  equal 
strength.  In  case  of  need,  he  would  rather  have 
contented  himself  with  power  without  fame,  than 
with  fame  without  power.  It  appears  to  me  that  if 
he  had  had  his  choice,  whether  to  be  the  powerful 
president  of  a  secret  tribunal,  or  a  Tasso  feted  at 
Ferrara,  he  would  have  chosen  the  former.  But  the 


Youthful  Ambition.  35 

two  objects  have  certainly  never  been  separated  in 
his  aspirations,  although  he  felt  his  relations  towards 
them  to  be  different.  He  saw  fame  before  him  as  if 
he  could  grasp  it,  extort  it  by  his  talents ;  there  was, 
therefore,  no  need  to  gain  over  or  flatter  any  one  ; 
he  would,  perhaps,  attain  it  best  by  challenges  on  all 
sides.  Power  was  far  off,  very  far,  and  was  only  to 
be  attained  step  by  step  ;  the  path  was  slippery  and 
tortuous;  but  he  was  firmly  resolved  to  spare  no 
pains,  to  shrink  from  no  humiliation,  no  trial  of  pa- 
tience, that  might  lead  to  the  goal.  And  the  goal 
was  an  actual  one.  While  honour  is  in  its  very  na- 
ture relative,  indefinite  in  quantity,  and  you  may 
always  long  for  more,  the  power  to  which  a  man 
may  hope  to  attain  is  something  definite.  Young 
Disraeli  longed  at  all  events  for  the  highest  power, 
and  if,  with  his  southern  blood  and  fantastic  tenden- 
cies in  boyhood,  we  may  conjecture  that  he  dreamed 
of  dark  conspiracies  and  secret  societies,  before  long 
the  brilliant  and  safe  position  of  a  prime  minister 
presented  itself  to  him  as  the  real  object  of  desire. 
No  sooner  did  he  begin  to  write  than  he  began  to 
portray  prime  ministers,  and  with  equal  imaginative 
faculty  and  political  sagacity. 

The  two  novels  in  which  they  occur,  "  Vivian 
Grey"  and  "  Contarini  Fleming,"  both  bear  the 
stamp  of  psychological  biographies,  and  each  is  the 
complement  of  the  other.  They  contain  forecasts 


36  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

of  his  own  training,  both  as  a  politician  and  a  nov- 
elist. Vivian  Grey,  the  hero  of  the  earlier  work,  is 
a  young  man  inclined  to  politics,  with  talents  for 
authorship ;  Contarini  Fleming,  on  the  contrary,  is 
an  imaginative  youth,  with  talents  for  politics ;  both 
have  a  passion  for  power  and  fame.  But  that  to 
Disraeli  power  appears  to  be  the  chief  good,  is  be- 
trayed most  clearly  in  the  career  of  the  novelist,  in 
which  we  should  not,  a  priori,  have  expected  to  find 
love  of  power  so  strongly  accented. 

The  task  which,  according  to  his  own  statement, 
Disraeli  set  himself  in  "  Contarini  Fleming,"  was  to 
portray  the  development  of  a  poetic  character ;  he 
aimed  at  giving  us  his  "  Wilhelm  Meister,"  with 
this  difference — that  his  hero  was  to  mature  for 
poetry,  and  Goethe's  for  the  realities  of  life.  Am- 
bition is  often  a  part  of  the  poetic  nature,  but  it 
may  be  latent,  and  only  betray  itself  in  discreet  and 
quiet  ways.  Goethe's  "  Meister  "  is  only  ambitious 
in  this  way.  But  let  us  hear  the  poet  in  Disraeli 
describe  himself  as  a  schoolboy.  "  Indeed,  exist- 
ence was  intolerable,  and  I  should  have  killed  my- 
self had  I  not  been  supported  by  my  ambition, 
which  now  each  day  became  more  quickening,  so 
that  the  desire  of  distinction  and  of  astound- 
ing action  raged  in  my  soul ;  and  when  I  re- 
collected that,  at  the  soonest,  many  years  must 
elapse  before  I  could  realize  my  ideas,  I  gnashed 


Youthful  Ambition.  37 

my  teeth    in    silent   rage,   and    cursed   my   exist- 
ence." * 

Years  go  by,  and  the  poet,  whose  father  is  a  dis- 
tinguished politician,  has  suffered  his  first  defeats 
and  won  his  first  spurs.  In  moments  of  self-confi- 
dence, he  saw  his  genius  and  destiny  struggling  for 
life  or  death,  and  the  struggle  ended  with  his  "  sit- 
ting on  a  brilliant  throne,  and  receiving  the  laurel 
wreath  from  an  enthusiastic  people."  But  politics 
are  always  almost  as  attractive  to  him  as  literature ; 
through  his  father's  influence  he  is  appointed  to  the 
post  of  under  secretary  of  state,  and  gains  a  decided 
triumph  in  the  councils  of  the  nation  by  his  decision 
and  presence  of  mind.  Would  it  not  be  said,  on 
reading  the  following  outburst,  that  this  poet,  con- 
trary to  the  intention  of  the  author,  showed  more 
political  than  poetical  ambition,  and  a  greater  de- 
sire for  power  than  for  a  famous  name  ? — "  I  felt  all 
my  energies.  I  walked  up  and  down  the  hall  in  a 
frenzy  of  ambition,  and  I  thirsted  for  action.  There 
seemed  to  me  no  achievement  of  which  I  was  not 
capable,  and  of  which  I  was  not  ambitious.  In 
imagination  I  shook  thrones  and  founded  empires. 
I  felt  myself  a  being  born  to  breathe  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  revolution."  t 

*  "  Contarini  Fleming,"  p.  33. 
f  Ibid.,  p.  176. 


38  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

At  this  moment  his  father  comes  to  him  and 
prophesies  that  he  will  become  prime  minister  in 
the  country  in  which  they  live  (Scandinavia),  and 
perhaps  still  more  than  that,  which  may  mean  in  a 
country  of  more  importance.  The  father  is  mis- 
taken in  his  son's  powers,  for  he  soon  returns  to  lit- 
erature ;  but  the  mistake  seems  to  us  only  too  natu- 
ral, for  we  do  not  often  find  a  thirst  like  this  for 
power  and  action  in  a  poet,  and  by  endowing  him 
with  these  qualities  Disraeli  has  unconsciously  be- 
trayed how  universal  he  considers  them.  In  the 
novel,  the  father  and  son  discuss  the  question 
whether  deeds  or  poetry,  the  fame  of  a  statesman 
or  the  fame  of  a  poet,  is  to  be  preferred,  and  the 
son  decides  for  poetry ;  but  it  can  scarcely  be 
doubted  that  it  is  the  father  who  expresses  Disraeli's 
own  opinion  when  he  declares  for  the  opposite  view. 
In  his  preface  to  "  Curiosities  of  Literature,"  by  his 
own  father,  Disraeli  afterwards  said  that  an  author 
may  have  a  deeper  influence  over  his  contempora- 
ries than  a  statesman,  and  that  a  book  may  be  a 
greater  thing  than  a  battle  or  a  congress.  This  was 
true,  and  it  was  his  honest  opinion ;  yet  he  did  not 
mean  or  feel  that  it  was  true  in  his  own  case.  He 
felt  far  more  deeply  what  he  made  Contarini  Flem- 
ing's father  say,  that  a  poet's  lot  was  a  sad  one,  and 
fame  after  death  a  poor  compensation  for  the  perse- 
cutions and  deprivations  in  which  the  lives  of  the 


Youthful  Ambition.  39 

greatest  poets  have  been  passed.  He  early  prom- 
ised himself  not  to  be  content  with  posthumous 
fame.  He  never  seriously  doubted  that  action  was 
above  writing  poetry,  and  Count  Fleming  speaks 
from  his  own  heart  when  he  says :  "  Would  you 
rather  have  been  Homer  or  Julius  Caesar,  Shake- 
speare or  Napoleon?  No  one  doubts.  Moralists 
may  cloud  truth  with  every  possible  adumbration 
of  cant,  but  the  nature  of  our  being  gives  the  lie  to 
all  their  assertions.  We  are  active  beings,  and  our 
sympathy,  above  all  other  sympathies,  is  with  great 
action."  * 

I  have  said  that  by  endowing  a  poet  in  his  youth 
with  love  of  power,  he  betrayed  his  belief  in  the 
universality  of  the  passion.  Twelve  years  later, 
when  he  knew  better  than  to  give  the  public  any 
picture  of  himself  than  such  as  would  serve  his  ends, 
he  writes  again :  "  Fame  and  power  are  the  objects 
of  all  men."  He  calls  "  thirst  for  power  and  desire 
for  fame  "  the  forces  which  call  us  out  of  social  ob- 
scurity, and  ambition  the  "  divinity  or  the  demon 
to  which  we  all  offer  so  many  sacrifices."  Power 
and  fame  are  certainly  not  the  objects  of  all  men ; 
they  were  not  the  objects  of  Franklin,  Kant,  or 
John  Stuart  Mill.  It  was  not  thirst  for  these  things 
which  called  men  like  Spinoza  or  Newton  from  ob- 

*  "Contarini  Fleming,"  p.  155. 


4O  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

scurity  into  immortality.  All  great  men  have  not 
offered  sacrifice  to  ambition.  Washington  sacrificed 
nothing  to  it,  nor  has  Garibaldi.  But  in  utterances 
like  these  the  speaker  unconsciously  gives  us  contri- 
butions to  his  own  psychology. 

The  first  motive  of  his  actions,  then,  was  to  raise 
himself,  to  quench  the  raging  thirst  for  distinction. 
The  source  of  this  thirst  was  a  born  love  of  domin- 
ion, of  ruling  and  influencing  other  men.  A  saying 
of  Disraeli's  in  "  Tancred  "  refers  to  this  tendency 
when  he  is  defending  an  ambitious  Syrian  emir  from 
the  charge  of  having  only  selfish  aims  :  "  Men  cer- 
tainly must  be  governed,  whatever  the  principle  of 
the  social  system,  and  Fakredeen  felt  born  with  a 
predisposition  to  rule."  * 

All  depends  on  what  it  is  that  is  sacrificed  to  this 
passion.  And  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  Disraeli 
soon  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  would  not  do  to 
bargain  and  haggle  too  scrupulously.  He  was  not 
made  for  a  Stoic.  Even  his  Vivian  Grey  stumbles, 
in  his  ambitious  reflections,  on  the  problem  how  it 
happens  that  so  many  great  minds  are  thrust  aside 
and  misunderstood,  and  solves  it  by  saying  that 
these  rare  characters  are  too  much  engrossed  with 
themselves  to  be  able  to  study  others.  The  cool 
and  sagacious  youth  draws  the  following  conclusion 

*  "  Tancred,"  p.  369, 


Youthful  Ambition.  41 

from  it : — "  Yes  ;  we  must  mix  with  the  herd  ;  we 
must  enter  into  their  feelings;  we  must  humour 
their  weaknesses ;  we  must  sympathize  with  the  sor- 
rows that  we  do  not  feel,  and  share  the  merriment 
of  fools."  * 

I  certainly  should  not  apply  these  words  to  the 
author  himself,  if  I  had  not  found  the  same  idea  ex- 
pressed in  writings  in  which  he  speaks  in  his  own 
name.  Even  in  these  he  considers  it  justifiable  to 
advocate  views  and  sentiments  which  you  do  not 
share,  in  order  to  retain  power,  and  to  guide  a  move- 
ment which  might  otherwise  have  worse  issues.  In 
"  The  Crisis  Examined,"  1834,  he  says:  "The  peo- 
ple have  their  passions,  and  it  is  even  the  duty  of 
public  men  occasionally  to  adopt  sentiments  with 
which  they  do  not  sympathize,  because  the  people 
must  have  leaders."  f  A  duty  it  never  is,  and  it  can 
only  be  justified  in  cases  of  urgent  necessity ;  but  if 
words  such  as  these  are  not  necessarily  evidences  of 
want  of  morality,  they  are  undoubtedly  the  language 
of  love  of  power. 

That  a  man  like  Benjamin  Disraeli  Was  ambitious 
is  only  the  secret  of  a  Polichinello,  a  fact  too  gener- 
ally acknowledged  to  need  proof.  But  the  term 
"  ambitious  "  is  but  an  empty  word ;  it  only  expresses 


*  "  Vivian  Grey,"  p.  18. 

f  "  Benjamin  Disraeli,  Earl  of  Beaconsfield,"  vol.  I.  p.  121. 


42  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

the  abstract  quality  in  which  everything  depends  on 
the  quantity  and  the  method.  The  study  of  the 
man's  early  writings  shows  to  what  extent  and  in 
what  way  he  was  ambitious. 

Ambitious,  then,  he  was.  And  with  this  irresisti- 
ble longing  for  power  and  mastery,  he  saw  moun- 
tains of  obstacles  rise  up  between  him  and  his 
desires.  He  was  unknown,  he  was  a  commoner, 
without  influential  connections.  England  was  a 
thoroughly  aristocratic  country,  and  full  of  preju- 
dices, and  he  was — the  son  of  a  Jew.  He  had,  it  is 
true,  been  by  accident  formally  introduced  into  the 
Christian  Church,  and  thus  the  absolute  obstacle  to 
his  political  career  was  removed.  But  the  baptized 
Jew  was  no  nearer  the  goal  than  the  unbaptized, 
the  tokens  of  race  and  hatred  of  the  race  remained. 
One  born  a  Jew  the  prime  minister  of  a  great 
Power !  It  was  absurd ;  unheard  of,  since  Joseph 
ruled  Egypt  as  the  favourite  of  Pharaoh.  England 
was  ruled  by  aristocrats,  and  what  was  he?  A 
pariah. 

A  pariah — -but  why?  And  here  query  after 
query  arose.  Was,  then,  this  mixed  population  of 
Saxons  and  Normans,  among  whom  he  had  first 
seen  the  light,  of  purer  blood  than  he  ?  Oh  no,  he 
was  descended  in  a  direct  line  from  one  of  the  old- 
est races  in  the  world,  from  that  rigidly  separate 
and  unmixed  Bedouin  race,  who  had  developed  a 


Youthful  Ambition.  43 

high  civilization  at  a  time  when  the  inhabitants  of 
England  were  going  half  naked,  and  eating  acorns 
in  their  woods.  He  was  of  pure  blood ;  and  yet, 
strange  to  say,  they  regarded  his  race  as  of  lower 
caste,  and,  nevertheless,  they  had  adopted  most  of 
the  laws  and  many  of  the  customs,  which  consti- 
tuted the  peculiarity  of  this  caste  in  their  Arabian 
home.  They  had  appropriated  all  the  religion  and 
all  the  literature  of  his  fathers.  They  had  acknowl- 
edged this  literature  to  be  sacred,  inspired  by  God 
Himself,  and  this  religion  to  be  a  revelation  which 
might  be  supplemented,  but  could  never  be  abol- 
ished. They  divided  their  time  by  Jewish  methods. 
They  rested  on  the  Sabbath,  in  accordance  with  a 
Jewish  law,  and  it  was  observed  by  them  scarcely 
less  literally  or  fanatically  than  in  the  ancient  land 
of  the  race.  They  considered  it  to  be  a  virtue, 
even  a  duty,  continually  to  study  the  history  of  his 
ancestors,  and  taught  it  to  their  children  before 
teaching  them  the  history  of  their  own  country. 
Week  by  week  they  sang  in  their  churches  the 
hymns,  laments,  and  praises  of  the  Jewish  poets ; 
and  finally,  they  worshipped  the  Son  of  a  Jewish 
woman  as  their  God.  Yet,  nevertheless,  they  ex- 
cluded with,  disdain  from  their  society  and  their 
parliament,  as  if  they  were  the  offscouring  of  the 
earth,  the  race  to  which  they  owed  their  festivals, 
their  psalms,  their  semi-civilization,  their  religion, 


44  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

and  their  God.  He  racked  his  brains.  He  was  not 
a  child  who  took  legends  for  realities  ;  he  was  a 
sharp-sighted  youth,  brought  up  by  a  sceptical  sa- 
vant in  an  eighteenth  century  library,  who,  when  a 
boy,  had  learnt  French  out  of  Voltaire.  His  father 
had  himself  put  the  works  of  the  great  Frenchman 
into  his  hands,  because,  as  a  boy,  he  seemed  dis- 
posed to  lose  himself  in  fantasies ;  and  he  had  de- 
voured the  hundred  volumes,  had  read  them  with 
laughter,  with  profound  admiration,  and  bitter  tears 
over  the  fate  of  humanity.  It  had  been  a  revela- 
tion to  him  ;  the  world's  history  had  been  transacted 
before  his  eyes — pedants  and  priests  and  tyrants ; 
the  folio  volumes  by  blockheads,  the  funeral  bells  of 
inquisitors,  the  prisons  of  kings,  and  the  wearisome, 
stupid  system  of  deceit  and  misgovernment  which 
had  so  long  sat  as  a  nightmare  on  the  breast  of  na- 
ture— in  a  word,  all  our  ignorance,  all  our  weakness, 
and  all  our  folly  presented  themselves  to  his  view. 
He  did  not  need  to  ask  himself  whether  orthodoxy 
came  forth  unscathed  from  this  long  indictment 
against  the  enemies  of  thought.  But  what  was  that 
to  him?  Those  who  despised  the  Jewish  race  were 
always  just  those  who  accepted  revelation,  while  the 
Voltaireans  had  always  pleaded  for  toleration.  Be- 
sides, he  did  not  look  at  the  question  at  all  from 
this  dogmatic  point  of  view.  He  took  a  practical 
view  of  it.  The  Asiatic  race  to  which  he  belonged 


Youthful  Ambition.  45 

had  in  an  intellectual  sense  conquered  Europe,  and 
the  quarters  of  the  world  peopled  by  Europeans. 
Northern  Europe  worshipped  the  Son  of  a  Jewish 
mother,  and  gave  Him  a  place  at  the  right  hand  of 
the  Creator ;  southern  Europe  worshipped  besides, 
as  Queen  of  Heaven,  a  Jewish  maiden ;  this  was  all 
the  difference  between  the  two  religious  parties  who 
agreed  in  contemning  his  people.  He  was  proud  of 
his  descent  from  a  race  which,  scattered,  banished, 
martyred,  plundered,  and  humiliated  for  thousands 
of  years,  by  Egyptian  Pharaohs,  Assyrian  kings, 
Roman  emperors,  Scandinavian  crusaders,  Gothic 
chiefs,  and  holy  inquisitors,  had  still  held  their  own, 
had  kept  their  race  pure,  and  remained  to  this  day 
irrepressible,  inexhaustible,  indispensable,  full  of  en- 
ergy and  genius.  When  he  fell  into  this  train  of 
thought,  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  were  living 
through  the  whole  history  of  the  race,  and  as  if  the 
whole  race  lived  in  him — all  the  departed  children 
of  Israel  in  him,  Disraeli ;  all  those  who  had  fallen 
asleep,  those  who  had  died  in  obscure  misery,  in- 
sulted, tortured,  burnt  at  the  stake — they  lived  in 
him  and  should  receive  satisfaction  through  him. 
And  what  was  it,  then,  with  which  this  people  were 
reproached  now  ?  With  rejecting  Christ  and  hating 
Him.  He  hate  Christ  ?— the  fairest  flower  and  the 
eternal  pride  of  the  Jewish  race,  the  son  of  the 
chosen  royal  family  of  the  chosen  people  !  Nay,  no 


46  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

one  hates  his  own  flesh  and  blood,  and  he  was  the 
kinsman  of  Him  whom  his  race  was  accused  of 
hating.  He,  too,  sprang  from  a  noble  family  among 
the  people  which  was  the  aristocracy  of  man- 
kind. 

Dreams  !  Idle  dreams  !  He  was  really  a  pariah 
among  the  aristocracy  of  his  country — aristocracy  as 
they  were  called.  Fine  aristocrats,  indeed  !  ancient 
nobility !  A  few  of  the  most  distinguished  of  them 
could,  with  difficulty,  trace  their  pedigree  back  for 
eight  hundred  years  to  a  troop  of  Norman  knights, 
whose  fathers  were  wreckers,  Baltic  pirates,  to 
whom  the  elements  of  civilization  had  been  com- 
municated by  priests  who  taught  them  the  religion 
of  Asia ;  and  to  whom  did  the  rest  of  the  great 
families  owe  their  wealth  and  their  nobility?  The 
rank  was  often  derived  from  some  cunning  cham- 
berlain, who  contrived  to  perform  eye-service  for 
some  tyrannical  king ;  or  to  some  former  club-house 
waiter,  who  had  bought  the  title  of  baron,  and  the 
wealth  had  mostly  one  and  the  same  source — plun- 
der; only  with  this  difference,  that  some  fortunes 
had  been  made  by  sacrilege  and  plunder  of  monas- 
teries during  the  Reformation  so  called,  others  by 
draining  India  during  the  so-called  colonization  of 
that  country.* 

*  "  Sybil,"  pp.  ii,  89  ;"  Tancred,"  p.  427. 


Youthful  Ambition.  47 

And  now  to  have  to  exclaim  with  the  hero  of  his 
first  book :  "  '  Curse  my  lot !  that  the  want  of  a  few 
rascal  counters,  and  the  possession  of  a  little  rascal 
blood,  should  mar  my  fortunes ! '  "  * 

*  "Vivian Grey,"  p.  18. 


CHAPTER     IV. 

CHARACTERISTICS. 

LET  us  imagine  this  passionate  impulse  to  make 
way  for  himself,  the  first  symptom  of  which  is  al- 
ways a  desire  to  attract  attention,  grafted  upon  a 
genuine  Oriental  temperament,  and  we  shall  not  be 
surprised  that  Disraeli  first  exhibited  himself  in  the 
curious  character  of  a  dandy. 

The  age  had  something  to  do  with  it.  He  was  a 
youth  when  George  IV.  was  king,  of  whose  pink 
suits  and  white  silk  waistcoats  his  contemporaries 
read  long  descriptions,  and  whose  inventions  in 
shoe-buckles  and  hat  shapes  were  as  much  discussed 
as  the  inventions  of  mitrailleuses  by  other  monarchs. 
And  Disraeli  entered  the  literary  circles  of  good 
society  at  the  time  when  Byron,  not  long  before  his 
death,  was  the  idol  of  the  clever  English  youth,  and 

• 

appeared  to  them  to  be  poetry  incarnate,  as  well  as 
a  model  of  anti-Philistinism.  But  Byron  was  the 
first  instance  in  England  of  a  mixture  of  romanticism 
which  set  all  rules  at  defiance,  and  of  coxcombry 
dictating  the  fashion.  He  had  almost  an  equal  de- 
sire to  write  verses  which  should  be  on  everybody's 

43 


Characteristics.  49 

tongue,  and  to  excite  astonishment  by  social  ca- 
prices at  variance  with  all  the  usages  of  society,  and 
to  introduce  new  ones.  If  George  IV.  and  he  had 
nothing  else  in  common,  they  were  agreed  in  their 
admiration  of  Beau  Brummell,  the  lion  among  the 
London  dandies ;  and  many  of  Disraeli's  writings 
bear  witness  to  the  deep  impression  which  had  been 
made  upon  him  in  former  years  by  Byron's  person 
and  poetry.  His  ideal  of  life  at  that  period  may  be 
characterized  by  an  expression  of  his  own  in  one  of 
his  early  works,  "  half  passion,  half  fashion."  *  Noth- 
ing could  be  further  from  his  thoughts  than  to  adopt 
Goethe's  well-known  saying  about  good  society : 
"  It  is  called  good  when  it  affords  no  occasion  for 
the  least  romance."  f  On  the  contrary,  the  life  of 
the  elegant  world  had  for  him  all  the  poetry  which 
it  generally  has  for  those  originally  excluded  from 
it,  and  all  the  charm  which  it  has  for  those  to  whom 
it  is  an  object  of  ambition.  This  precociously  pol- 
ished youth — who  did  not  for  a  moment  doubt  that 
he  was,  in  mind  and  native  nobility,  the  equal  of 
lords  and  dukes,  nay,  rather  their  superior — felt 
himself  instinctively  attracted  by  the  flutterings  of 
the  "  golden  youth,"  m  the  sunshine  of  fortune,  and 
he  early  made  it  a  speciality  to  describe  high  society. 

*  "The  Young  Duke,"  p.  224. 
f  .  .  .  mann  nennt  sic  die  gute 
Wenn  sic  gum  kleinsten  Gedicht  keine  Gelegenheit  giebt. 

3 


5O  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

The  type  of  "  The  Young  Duke,"  published  at  the 
age  of  twenty-three,  but  obviously  written  before, 
is  that  which  may  be  briefly  described  as  the  Pel- 
ham  type :  the  young  man  of  the  world,  endowed 
with  abundant  means,  whose  follies  seem  likely  to 
ruin  him,  until  it  turns  out  that  he  is  at  bottom  an 
honourable  and  chivalrous  character,  capable  of  re- 
nouncing all  his  follies  and  love  of  display,  to  marry 
a  young  and  noble  girl,  who  first  disdains,  then 
loves  and  forgives  him.  Bulwer's  "  Pelham "  ap- 
peared in  1828.  "The  Young  Duke  "  was  written 
during  the  same  time  at  Rome,  and  was  published 
during  the  following  year.  Disraeli,  perhaps,  looks 
down  at  his  man  of  the  world  from  a  more  lofty 
height  than  Bulwer ;  he  never  holds  him  up  to  admi- 
ration ;  he  likes  him,  and  describes  him  with  indul- 
gence. Much  is  forgiven  him  because  he  is  so 
thoroughly  aristocratic,  so  in  accord  with  his  rank, 
so  fashionable. 

A  dandy  was  at  that  time  in  England  (as  a  few 
years  later  a  romanticist  was  in  France)  a  being 
who,  from  his  appearance,  his  dress,  and  his  mode 
of  wearing  his  hair,  laid  claim  to  be  regarded  as  a 
mortal  out  of  the  common  run.  With  his  Oriental 
love  of  show,  Disraeli  overstepped  the  line  observed 
by  the  greatest  dandies.  He  was  handsome,  and  he 
knew  it.  We  must  imagine  him  not  as  he  is  as  an 
old  man,  but  as  in  his  youthful  portraits,  with  a 


Characteristics.  5 1 

wild,  melancholy,  poetic  expression  in  the  Byron 
style ;  with  his  beautiful  thick  hair  parted  on  one 
side,  so  that  the  long  glossy  locks  hung  down  low ; 
with  a  broad,  limp  shirt-collar  falling  over  the  care- 
less neck-tie  ;  a  velvet  coat  of  unusual  cut,  lined  with 
white  silk  ;  a  waistcoat  embroidered  with  flowers  in 
gold  ;  the  hands  half  concealed  with  embroidered 
ruffles  ;  the  fingers  covered  with  rings ;  the  breast 
adorned  with  an  armour  of  gold  chains ;  and  dancing 
shoes  on  his  feet ;  in  his  hand  an  ivory  cane,  the 
handle  inlaid  with  gold,  carried  by  a  silken  tassel. 
Voilh  I'homme,  called  Disraeli  the  younger,  as  he 
exhibited  himself  in  London  society,  whose  latest 
-and  brightest  ornament  he  is,  to  an  amused  and 
astonished  world  !  He  is  decked  out  like  a  woman, 
and  more  so  than  a  woman  of  correct  and  refined 
taste. 

Disraeli  had  the  true  appreciation  of  one  who 
aspires  to  be  a  man  of  the  world  for  the  little  finish- 
ing touches  and  advantages  which  stamp  a  young 
man  as  a  man  of  fashion — especially  when  he  not 
only  rides  the  best  horse,  and  drives  the  best  cabri- 
olet, but  docs  it  in  such  a  way  as  to  impose  his  own 
style  on  others  instead  of  adopting  theirs.  We 
meet  with  this  Brummell-worship  in  a  number  of 
Disraeli's  novels.  In  "  Vivian '  Grey,"  a  German, 
Emilius  von  Asslingen,  is  introduced  as  an  arbiter 
of  fashion,  who,  without  wealth  or  rank,  and  solely 


52  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

by  following  his  own  fantastic  tastes  without  regard 
to  anybody  else,  becomes  the  living  model  by  which 
royal  highnesses  and  dukes  regulate  their  style.  In 
"  The  Young  Duke,"  the  hero  himself  is  a  leader  of 
fashion.  In  "  Henrietta  Temple,"  Disraeli  intro- 
duces, under  the  fictitious  name  of  Count  Alcibiades 
de  Mirabel,  the  leader  of  fashion  in  the  England  of 
that  day,  the  well-known  Count  d'Orsay,  and  ex- 
presses without  reserve  his  admiration  for  this  reck- 
less, amiable,  and  gifted  Frenchman,  who,  with 
champagne  in  his  veins,  maintained  his  position  all 
his  life  as  dictator  to  the  tailors  and  idol  of  the 
ladies.  Better  to  be  the  first  in  the  little  empire 
of  fashion  than  second  in  the  political  arena!  Even 
Caesar  was  a  dandy  in  his  youth. 

In  his  earliest  youth,  then,  Disraeli  adroitly  adopt- 
ed the  tone  of  the  fashionable  world  ;  in  society  he 
was  often  silent,  but  was  in  the  highest  degree  at- 
tractive when  he  told  stories.  He  could  use  both 
flattery  and  banter,  be  cold  and  devoted  at  the  right 
time  and  place  ;  he  could  touch  lightly  on  impor- 
tant subjects,  and  talk  with  humorous  importance 
of  trifles.  To  judge  from  his  books,  he  has  pene- 
trated as  deeply  into  the  mysteries  of  the  epicurean 
art  as  into  that  of  the  tailor.  A  man  of  the  world 
does  not  only  eat,  'he  knows  how  to  eat,  and  can  not 
only  drink,  but  make  an  impression  by  giving  ad- 
vice about  the  treatment  of  a  Johannisberger  or  a 


Characteristics.  53 

Maraschino.  A  man  of  the  world  is  not  ashamed 
now  and  then  to  give  a  chapter  from  Brillat-Savarin. 
One  finds  in  Disraeli  valuable  contributions  to  the 
physiology  and  aesthetics  of  the  palate.  His  first 
descriptions  of  London  high  life  swarm  with  hymns 
to  ortolans :  "  Sweet  bird !  ...  all  Paradise  opens  ! 
Let  me  die  eating  ortolans  to  the  sound  of  soft 
music !  " — with  odes  to  soups :  "  Ye  soups !  o'er 
whose  creation  I  have  watched,  like  mothers  o'er 
their  sleeping  child  ! "  *  with  the  wildest  expressions 
about  the  whiting,  that  "  chicken  of  the  ocean ; " 
about  the  warm  and  sunny  flavour  of  brown  soup, 
the  mild  and  moonlight  deliciousness  of  white ; 
about  sherry  with  a  pedigree  as  long  as  an  Arab's, 
Rhine  wine  with  a  bouquet  like  the  breath  of  wo- 
man. Wherewith  can  the  flavour  of  a  lobster  salad 
be  better  compared  than  with  the  arts  of  a  co- 
quette ?  And  how  natural  to  conclude  the  compa- 
rison with  a  regret  that  a  rendezvous  with  the 
lobster  salad  is  not  so  harmless  as  that  with  the 
lady! 

That  is  the  style — a  gastronomic  humour  spring- 
ing from  a  lively  and  sensuous  fancy,  flavoured  with 
a  few  drops  of  flippant,  yet  controlled,  frivolity.  It 
is  the  conversational  tone  of  that  day ;  in  good  soci- 
ety the  sensuality  inseparable  from  fiery  youth  must 

*  "  The  Young  Duke,"  p.  33. 


54  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

find  vent  in  gastronomy ;  for  good  society,  though 
it  looks  at  sensuality  itself  through  its  fingers,  does 
not  permit,  some  aspects  of  it  to  be  mentioned.  If 
you  want  to  glorify  sensual  life  within  the  limits 
prescribed  by  good  society,  you  must  sing  the 
praises  of  soup.  If  you  want  to  extol  active  life, 
you  must  treat  every  sort  of  sport  with  the  gravity 
that  it  deserves.  Sport  banishes  all  superfluous 
care.  "  The  sight  of  a  pair  of  spurs  is  enough  to 
drive  away  all  thought  of  suicide." 

His  father's  library  and  London  society  were  the 
first  schools  through  which  young  Disraeli  passed ; 
the  short  time  spent  in  a  lawyer's  office  only  ini- 
tiated him  a  little  into  practical  routine.  Strange 
to  say,  and  characteristically  enough,  he  had  no  uni- 
versity training.  Was  he  too  practical  to  care  for 
it,  or  too  impatient  to  submit  to  its  restraints? 
One  is  ready  to  think  it  was  the  latter  when  he 
speaks,  in  "  Vivian  Grey,"  of  the  "  courage  "  which 
a  young  politician  has  shown  in  immuring  himself 
for  three  years  in  a  German  university.  But  this 
much  is  clear,  that  the  want  of  a  learned  education 
has  avenged  itself,  and  perceptibly  left  something 
lacking  in  Disraeli's  mind.  It  is  all  very  well  to  de- 
spise the  wisdom  gained  from  books,  and  to  shrug 
your  shoulders  at  pedants  and  pedantry  ;  but  learn- 
ing is  not  to  be  acquired  from  political  fantasies  nor 
learnt  in  salons.  Disraeli  never  learnt  to  respect 


Characteristics.  55 

learning;  he  was  not  inoculated  with  it  in  early 
youth,  when  the  mind  is  open  to  such  impressions ; 
neither  has  he  ever  attained  scientific  insight,  for 
neither  as  a  youth  nor  a  man  has  he  ever  been 
trained  by  scientific  methods.  In  consequence  of 
this,  the  germs  of  fantasy  and  paradox,  which  were 
in  his  mind,  were  in  conditions  only  too  favourable 
for  growth.  This  also  opened  the  way  for  a  curious, 
half-developed  mysticism,  a  taste  for  the  mysterious 
and  emotional,  a  curious  preference  for  all  unscien- 
tific knowledge  and  ideas,  if  they  have  any  historical 
or  practical  value,  which  are  opposed  to  reason. 
This  is  the  explanation  of  Disraeli's  employment  of 
the  conjuring  formulae  of  the  Cabbala  as  machinery 
in  "  Alroy,"  of  his  general  habit  of  describing  secret 
societies  as  potent  forces  in  history.  If  in  the 
course  of  a  story  he  can  conceal  himself  behind 
some  mysterious  apparatus,  it  has  more  interest  for 
him  than  the  idea  which  underlies  a  cause  or  an 
action.  When  he  is  writing  of  Jews,  he  represents 
them  as  connected  together  all  over  the  world  as 
by  a  kind  of  freemasonry.  When  he  is  describing 
workmen,  he  loves  best  to  present  them  in  long 
robes,  with  masks  on  their  faces,  ranged  around  a 
skeleton,  initiating  a  novice  into  a  Trades  Union  by 
some  hocus-pocus,  as  was  the  custom  in  the  Holy 
Vchm  in  mediaeval  Germany.  He  has  described 
more  than  one  of  the  secret  societies  of  European 


56  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

democracy  with  profound  appreciation  of  the  power 
exercised  by  them  by  means  of  some  half-intelligible 
watchword ;  and  through  nearly  all  his  works  there 
runs  a  lively  admiration  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church,  with  its  active  organization,  mystical  doc- 
trines, magical  means,  and  practical  ends.  With 
what  pride  he  has  referred  to  the  fact,  in  more  than 
one  of  his  writings,  that  there  were  Jews  among  the 
first  Jesuits,  and  how  he  respects  the  intelligence 
and  power  of  the  Jesuits!  One  asks  involuntarily, 
whether  he  has  half  as  much  respect  for  all  the 
philosophy  and  natural  science  of  Europe  put  to- 
gether, and  feels  that  he  regards  a  meeting  of  scien- 
tific men  as  of  far  less  importance  than  a  meeting 
of  fanatical  conspirators. 

At  the  time  when  Disraeli  entered  life,  all  men 
with  poetical  or  aesthetic  tendencies  had  a  common 
object  of  antipathy — the  doctrine  of  utility.  In  the 
form  of  moralizing  mediocrity,  in  which  it  had  been 
presented  to  them,  the  German  and  Scandinavian 
romanticists  heaped  ridicule  upon  it.  It  was  usually 
conceived  of  as  a  levelling  tendency,  as  hatred  of 
the  beautiful  and  the  good,  and  it  was  opposed  in 
the  name  of  poetry,  religion,  and  heroism.  But 
while,  in  the  rest  of  Northern  Europe,  Utilitarianism 
had  appeared  in  more  or  less  vague  and  confused 
forms  as  enlightenment  or  rationalism,  in  England 
it  was  represented  by  no  less  a  man  than  Bentham, 


Characteristics.  57 

who  first  gave  the  doctrine  a  system  and  a  name, 
and  his  school  became  more  and  more  a  power. 
We  find  in  Disraeli  the  well-known  aesthetic  dislike 
to  utilitarianism,  but  with  a  local  and  individual  pe- 
culiarity. 

Although  a  plebeian  by  birth  and  a  freedman  by 
baptism,  he  was  a  born  aristocrat,  deeply  impressed 
with  the  feeling  that  men  and  races  are  variously 
endowed.  Utilitarianism  appeared  to  him  also  to 
be  a  levelling  tendency,  and,  as  such,  he  hated  and 
ridiculed  it.  He  calls  it  an  enemy  to  mountains  as 
well  as  to  monarchs.  In  "Popanilla"  (1827)  he 
makes  a  utilitarian  philosopher  propose  to  level  the 
Andes  on  the  ground  that  these  monstrosities  are 
decidedly  useless,  and,  therefore,  neither  sublime 
nor  beautiful.  He  even  asserts,  in  fat  Foreign  Quar- 
terly Review  (1828),  that  he  has  met  with  a  personal 
enemy  of  Mont  Blanc.  This  caricature  of  utilita- 
rianism appears  to  him  so  telling  that,  a  year  later, 
he  takes  it  up  again  in  "  The  Young  Duke."  The 
duke,  on  a  short  journey,  in  which  he  travels  incog- 
nito, meets  with  a  passenger  in  a  stage-coach,  who, 
casting  his  eyes  on  the  duke's  park,  declares  that 
the  park  and  its  owner,  as  well  as  all  the  aristocracy, 
are  useless,  and  ought  to  be  abolished.  The  man 
extols  an  author  who  has  made  a  spirited  and  vigor- 
ous attack  upon  the  Andes,  in  which  he  shows  the 
uselessness  of  everything  which  lifts  itself  up  above 
3* 


58  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

the  rest,  and  condemns  these  mountains  as  the  aris- 
tocracy of  the  earth. 

There  is  nothing  specially  English  jn  this ;  the 
romanticists  of  all  countries  would  have  joined  in 
it ;  but  it  is  quite  intelligible^  that  the  man  who 
thought  thus  in  his  youth  should  not  afterwards  re- 
gard the  Manchester  theories  with  favour,  and  would 
never  be  tempted  to  put  the  material  interests  of 
England  above  her  name  and  prestige.  But  what 
does  appear  to  me  absolutely  peculiar  in  Disraeli  is 
his  dislike,  concealed  beneath  jests  over  its  prosaic 
side,  to  the  scientific  element  in  utilitarianism.  It  is 
repugnant  to  him  because  it  overestimates  abstract 
reason,  and  undervalues  imagination.  There  is  a 
line  in  "  Coningsby  "  which  expresses  and  explains 
Disraeli's  antipathy  with  admirable  brevity  :  "  Mor- 
mon counts  more  votaries  than  Bentham."  Let  us 
duly  consider  this  dictum..  It  merely  states  a  statis- 
tical fact  or  what  is  supposed  to  be  so  ;  but  one  sees 
behind  it  Disraeli's  contempt  for  a  doctrine  purely 
scientific,  which  cannot,  therefore,  be  fanatical.  It 
is  placed  in  the  mouth  of  a  person  in  the  book  who 
is  Disraeli's  spokesman,  and  the  train  of  thought  is 
intended  to  show  that  neither  physical  nor  econom- 
ical, but  mental  causes,  have  occasioned  the  great 
revolutions  in  the  history  of  the  world.  The  origin 
of  every  great  deed  must,  according  to  him,  be 
sought  in  the  imagination  :  a  revolution  takes  place 


Characteristics.  59 

when  the  imagination  of  a  people  revolts  against 
the  Government,  and  he  who  appeals  to  the  imagi- 
nations of  men  is  a  more  powerful,  and  therefore  a 
greater,  more  eminent  man,  than  he  who  appeals  to 
their  interest — so  certainly  as  imagination  is  more 
potent  than  reason. 

This,  as  it  seems  to  me,  is  the  language  and  these 
the  ideas  of  a  man  destitute  of  learning.  A  more 
scientifically  trained  mind  is  sure  to  regard  with 
the  greatest  respect  those  undertakings  and  institu- 
tions which  bear  a  scientific  stamp ;  and  even  if  by 
historical  and  philosophical  self-culture  he  has  ac- 
customed himself  to  see  reason  in  phenomena  like 
Jesuitism  or  Mormonism,  his  recognition  of  power 
in  the  political  organization  of  the  one  and  in  the 
religious  fanaticism  of  the  other,  is  involuntarily 
mingled  with  contempt  for  what  is  adverse  to  rea- 
son. In  Disraeli's  case  there  is  not  only  no  trace  of 
such  contempt,  but  rather  an  admiring  sympathy. 
He  may,  on  the  other  hand,  compel  himself  to  ac- 
knowledge the  greatness  of  pure  reason ;  but  what 
he  by  nature,  and  involuntarily,  respects  is  the 
catchword  which  electrifies  the  unreasoning  masses. 

Still,  it  is  in  this  high  value  placed  on  the  use  of 
imagination,  conditioned  by  the  lack  of  scientific 
training  before  mentioned,  that  the  originality  of 
the  man  consists.  There  is  some  truth,  something 
even  profound,  in  this  view  of  imagination  as  a  po- 


60  Lord  Bcaconsfield. 

litical  motive  power.  It  springs  from  his  own  pecu- 
liarly imaginative  temperament ;  and  this  mode  of 
looking  at  things  is  to  such  an  extent  the  central 
point  with  him,  that  he  who  rightly  apprehends 
Disraeli's  opinion  of  the  part  played  by  imagination 
in  politics,  and  his  adroitness  in  turning  it  to  ac- 
count, possesses  the  key  to  his  mental  powers  as  a 
novelist  and  a  statesman. 

The  characteristic  development  of  the  idea  in 
"  Coningsby  "  is  as  follows: — "  How  limited  is  hu- 
man reason  the  profoundest  inquirers  are  most 
conscious.  We  are  not  indebted  to  the  reason  of 
man  for  any  of  the  great  achievements  which  are 
the  landmarks  of  human  action  and-  human  prog- 
ress. It  was  not  reason  that  besieged  Troy;  it 
was  not  reason  that  sent  forth  the  Saracen  from 
the  desert  to  conquer  the  world,  that  inspired  the 
Crusades,  that  instituted  the  monastic  orders ;  it 
was  not  reason  that  produced  the  Jesuits ;  above 
all,  it  "was  not  reason  that  created  the  French  Rev- 
olution. Man  is  only  truly  great  when  he  acts 
from  the  passions ;  never  irresistible  but  when  he 
appeals  to  the  imagination.  Even  Mormon  counts 
more  votaries  than  Bentham."  * 

What  is  here  expressed  as  the  opinion  of  Dis- 
raeli's mature  years,  hovered  vaguely  before  his 

*  "  Coningsby,"  p.  240. 


Characteristics.  6 1 

eyes  as  a  youth,  and  betrayed  itself  in  his  involun- 
tary antipathy  to  Bentham  and  the  Benthamites. 
He  has  been  opposed  to  them  all  his  life.  At  a  later 
period,  he  aimed  his  blows  at  them  as  mere  rational 
politicians,  who  had  no  eye  for  the  lessons  of  his- 
tory, or  what  was  historically  possible.  At  a  still 
later  stage,  he  opposed  the  stress  laid  in  politics  by 
their  successors  on  material  motives  and  calcula- 
tions which  logically  led  to  the  principle  of  non- 
intervention ;  but  what  was  most  repugnant  to  him 
in  utilitarianism  was  the  contempt  expressed  by  its 
first  advocates  for  imagination,  not  only  in  poetry, 
but  as  a  constituent  of  human  nature.  Bentham's* 
dictum,  "  All  poetry  is  misrepresentation,"  chal- 
lenged the  poet  in  him  ;  but  the  utilitarian  con- 
tempt for  imagination  altogether,  which  he  consid- 
ered to  be  the  inspiring  motive  power  in  every  great 
act,  incensed  in  the  highest  degree  the  future  states- 
man. 

For  he  was  led  by  his  own  nature,  as  well  as  by 
his  first  researches  into  politics,  to  regard  imagina- 
tion as  the  decisive  force  in  them.  He  perceived 
that  it  was  not  enough  to  handle  existing  circum- 
stances adroitly,  but  that  the  statesman  must  have 
the  gift  of  reckoning  with  the  future.  He  must  be 
able  to  forecast  and  prepare  the  future — must,  so  to 
speak,  be  able  to  handle  it  as  his  material.  He  saw, 
moreover,  that  the  statesman  must  be  able  to  gen- 


62  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

eralize  from  the  details  collected  by  reading  or  ex- 
perience, to  enable  him  to  form  those  comprehensive 
views,  without  which  he  is  the  mere  slave  of  routine. 
But  he  found  in  the  human  mind  no  other  faculty 
than  political  imagination  to  enable  him  to  form 
this  comprehensive  view  of  the  present,  or  to  con- 
strue and  prepare  the  future. 

And  it  was  this  faculty  which  enabled  him  to  see 
restless  visions,  to  weave  dreams,  to  forge  plans  and 
intrigues.  When  he  looked  into  his  own  mind,  he 
had  assuredly  no  cause  to  lose  heart  or  to  doubt  of 
his  future.  He  possessed  in  an  eminent  degree  the 
faculty  on  which  all  depended  —  imagination,  and 
especially  imagination  applied  to  politics  on  a  grand 
scale. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"VIVIAN  GREY." 

"  Why,  then,  the  world's  mine  oyster, 
Which  I  with  sword  will  open." 

WITH  this  motto  on  the  title-page,  Disraeli's  first 
novel  went  forth  into  the  world  in  the  year  1826. 
And  the  contents  of  the  book  agreed  with  the  motto. 
Vivian  is  the  son  of  a  distinguished  author,  lively, 
talented,  irresistibly  attractive,  and  engrossed  from 
boyhood  with  the  idea  of  making  a  career  for  him- 
self. In  society  he  is  petted  and  patronized  by  a 
dozen  women  of  fashion,  but  the  apparently  frivol- 
ous boy  is  an  obstinate  and  indefatigable  student, 
and  when  he  has  devoured  a  mass  of  historical  read- 
ing, he  takes  to  the  study,  "  which  is  certainly  the 
most  attractive  that  exists,  but  for  a  boy  the  most 
dangerous,"  the  study  of  politics.  His  first  political 
reflection  is  simply  this — How  many  great  nobles 
only  want  brains  to  become  ministers,  and  "what 
does  Vivian  Grey  want  in  order  to  become  one  ? 
Nothing  but  the  influence  of  such  a  noble.  He 
thinks  that  when  two  people  arc  to  such  an  extent 
necessary  to  one  another,  they  should  act  together, 

63 


64  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

and  concludes :  "  There  wants  but  one  thing  more — 
courage,  pure,  perfect  courage;  and  does  Vivian 
Grey  know  fear?"*  He  answers  his  own  query 
with  a  bitter  and  scornful  laugh.  Vivian  is  not 
scrupulous  in  the  choice  of  his  means.  At  a  dinner- 
party at  his  father's  house,  he  begins  by  flattering  a 
blockhead  of  a  nobleman,  the  Marquis  of  Carabas, 
and  gains  his  lordship's  favour  by  giving  him  a 
recipe  for  tomahawk  punch,  and  another  to  the 
marchioness  for  her  nervous  parrot.  The  two  men 
form  a  political  alliance,  and  Vivian  founds  the 
"Carabas  party"  out  of  a  set  of  narrow-minded, 
avaricious,  and  envious  landed  nobles,  in  which  he 
plays  the  part  among  the  bluff  earls  of  political 
Figaro.  He  has  not  only  no  doubt  of  success  him- 
self, but  succeeds  in  instilling  the  same  faith  into 
others.  "  For  it  was  one  of  the  first  principles  of 
Mr.  Vivian  Grey,  that  everything  was  possible.  Men 
did  fail  in  life,  to  be  sure,  and  after  all,  very  little 
was  done  by  the  generality ;  but  still  all  these  fail- 
ures and  all  this  inefficiency  might  be  traced  to  a 
want  of  physical  and  mental  courage.  .  .  .  Now 
Vivian  Grey  was  conscious  that  there  was  at  least 
one  person  in  the  world  who  was  no  craven  either  in 
body  or  in  mind,  and  so  he  had  long  come  to  the  - 
comfortable  conclusion  that  it  was  impossible  that 

*  "  Vivian  Grey,"  p.  19. 


"Vivian  Grey"  6$ 

his  career  could  be  anything  but  the  most  bril- 
liant." * 

It  appears  necessary  to  Vivian  Grey  to  attract  to 
the  new  party  a  real  politician  of  great  talent,  who 
has  retired  into  private  life  ;  and  to  this  man,  whom 
he  regards  as  his  equal,  he  makes  no  secret  of  his 
contempt  for  the  other  members  of  the  party.  Grey 
explains  to  Cleveland  that  he  is  not  in  the  slightest 
degree  duped  by  the  Marquis  of  Carabas  or  any  one 
else,  but,  though  he  has  full  confidence  in  his  own 
abilities,  he  wishes  to  employ  the  power  of  others. 
Ought  he  to  play  the  part  of  hermit  in  the  drama 
of  life  only  because  his  fellow-actors  are  sometimes 
fools,  and,  when  opportunity  offers,  become  clowns? 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  cold  and  unscru- 
pulous Vivian  Grey  gains  the  easy  political  victory 
that  he  expects.  On  the  contrary,  all  his  schemes 
are  frustrated.  As  if  the  author  had  foreseen,  with 
prophetic  eye,  the  long  series  of  disappointments 
and  defeats  that  awaited  him,  he  makes  blow  after 
blow  fall  upon  his  hero  of  romance.  His  noble  allies 
leave  him  in  the  lurch  on  the  first  disaster,  and  load 
him  with  undeserved  contumely.  Cleveland,  who 
imagines  himself  betrayed,  insults  him  so  grossly 
that  Vivian  is  compelled  to  give  him  a  challenge, 
and,  to  crown  his  misfortunes,  kills  his  former  friend 

*  "  Vivian  Grey,"  p.  44. 


66  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

in  a  duel.  He  has  a  serious  illness,  and,  on  his  re- 
covery, the  best  thing  he  can  do  is  to  make  a  long 
tour  abroad  in  order  to  forget  and  be  forgotten. 

With  this,  the  most  remarkable  part  of  the  book 
in  a  psychological  point  of  view,  in  which  the  scene 
is  laid  in  England,  comes  to  an  end.  The  second 
and  larger  part  treats  of  Vivian  Grey's  travels  in 
Germany;  his  visits  to  German  baths  and  courts, 
larger  and  smaller,  of  his  travelling  and  love  adven- 
tures, his  intercourse  with  great  nobles  and  reigning 
princes  and  ministers.  This  second  part  is  consid- 
erably more  mature  than  the  first,  and  appeared  a 
year  later.  Unfortunately,  there  is  not  a  single 
thread  to  connect  it  with  the  first  part.  Vivian  him- 
self is  not  the  same  person ;  the  work  as  a  whole, 
has  crumbled  to  pieces  in  the  young  author's  hands. 
Nevertheless,  "Vivian  Grey"  is  a  sparkling  book; 
there  is  spirit  in  the  dialogues,  and  wit  in  the  re- 
flections, which  make  it  even  now  worth  reading, 
and  it  produced  an  effect  like  the  contact  of  flint 
and  steel  in  English  society.  The  cause  lay  not 
alone  in  the  merits  of  the  book — though  such  works, 
when  the  abundant  English  fictitious  literature  of 
the  nineteenth  century  had  no  existence,  were  a 
rarity ;  nor  was  it  alone  the  political  matter  which 
attracted  attention  ;  the  main  thing  was  that  the  fic- 
titious dish  which  the  young  Disraeli  had  served  up 
was  spiced  with  the  most  appetizing  of  all  condi- 


"  Vivian  Grey"  67 

ments,  scandal.  In  the  descriptions  of  London  so- 
ciety there  were  spiteful  sketches  of  well-known  per- 
sonages, and  when  the  report  of  this  was  spread, 
society  of  course  had  no  rest  until  the  real  name  of 
every  single  character  was  discovered.  "  Have  you 
read  '  Vivian  Grey '  ?  "  "  We  are  all  in  it  together, 
no  doubt."  "  I  sent  this  morning  for  a  Key  to  it." 
This  was  the  colloquy  in  London  drawing-rooms 
after  the  appearance  of  the  book,  just  as  it  occurs 
in  "  Contarini  Fleming,"  after  the  hero's  first  novel. 
A  number  of  Keys  came  out,  one  of  which,  in  1827, 
ran  through  ten  editions.  Most  of  the  guesses  con- 
tained in  them  were  undoubtedly  very  silly,  but  so 
much  is  clear,  that  the  conversation  in  "Vivian 
Grey"  overflowed  with  direct  or  veiled  personali- 
ties. 

In  the  mixture  of  truth  and  fiction  which  excited 
so  much  unaesthetic  curiosity  in  Disraeli's  first  work 
there  was  something  involuntary,  which  was  to  be 
attributed  to  the  author's  youth  ;  but  at  the  same 
time,  one  of  his  permanent  characteristics  was  be- 
trayed in  it,  and  it  has  been  repeated  nearly  every 
time  he  has  set  pen  to  paper  as  a  novelist.  In  that 
character  he  never  forgets  the  actual  life  around 
him  ;  he  does  not  care  for  a  purely  imaginative  ef- 
fect ;  he  wants  to  strike  in  at  the  present  moment, 
and  in  order  to  this  nothing  comes  amiss  to  him. 
He  finds  it  hard  to  tear  himself  away  from  the  pres- 


68  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

ent  political  situation,  even  when  he  wishes  to  do 
so,  for  his  imagination  is  not  a  free  bird,  although  a 
wild  one ;  it  is  the  trained  falcon  who  executes  the 
behests  of  his  ambition  and  carries  out  his  plans. 

It  has  been  stated  almost  as  a  certainty  in  Eng- 
land, that  Disraeli,  at  twenty,  found  the  original  of 
Vivian  Grey  in  the  looking-glass,  and  the  only 
youthful  thing  in  the  book  has  been  said  to  be  the 
naivett  with  which  the  author  displays  the  hard- 
headedness  of  age.  There  is,  clearly  enough,  some 
personation  of  himself  in  Vivian  Grey,  for  there  is 
not  the  slightest  irony  in  the  treatment  of  him ;  but 
the  hard-headedness  is  affected  rather  than  naive. 
The  great  object  of  the  young  author  was  to  make 
an  impression  on  the  reader,  and,  therefore,  he  only 
described  and  exaggerated  those  qualities  which  he 
considered  the  most  imposing,  and  which,  bad  or 
good,  he  was  most  ready  to  confess  to.  But  every- 
body knows  that  an  ambitious  youth  of  eighteen 
or  twenty,  when  he  wants  to  be  somebody,  desires 
above  all  things  to  be  the  practised  man  of  the 
world,  cool  and  calculating,  whose  heart  has  no  in- 
fluence over  him,  or  could,  at  any  rate,  only  be 
touched  by  a  glowing  erotic  passion,  while  he  is  ir- 
resistible to  every  woman.  He  has  a  horror  of  all 
the  softer  feelings,  reverence  and  innocent  admira- 
tion for  persons  or  ideas,  as  sheer  nonsense.  When 
you  have  not  long  escaped  from  the  nursery,  you 


"Vivian  Grey"  69 

tremble  at  everything  that  reminds  you  of  it,  and  if, 
at  that  age  the  child  within  you  weeps  or  indulges 
in  vain  hopes,  it  fires  the  cheek  with  shame,  and 
you  feel  ready  to  throttle  him.  Disraeli's  "  Vivian 
Grey,"  especially  the  first  part,  is  a  product  of  this 
state  of  mind ;  the  author  is  fanfaron  de  vice,  and 
instead  of  showing  himself  naive,  as  he  really  is, 
forces  himself  to  affectation.  No  acute  reader  will 
conclude  from  "  Vivian  Grey  "  that  the  emotional 
passages  in  his  later  works  must  be  false,  because 
that  work  betrayed  the  author's  true  character ;  the 
critic  will,  on  the  contrary,  draw  conclusions  about 
his  earlier  state  of  mind  from  the  earnestness  of 
feeling  of  those  published  but  a  few  years  later,  and 
thus  convince  himself  of  the  obvious  affectation  in 
"  Vivian  Grey,"  which  Disraeli  has  ever  since  him- 
self acknowledged. 

The  young  author  forms  the  groundwork  of  the 
character  of  his  hero  by  making  him  a  political  ad- 
venturer. In  his  mouth  there  is  nothing  degrading 
in  it.  The  English  word  "  adventure  "  means,  in  its 
active  sense,  a  "  venture,"  and  in  its  passive  sense 
that  may  be  said  of  it  which  Disraeli  makes  his 
Ixion  write  in  Minerva's  album,  and  it  is  repeated, 
word  for  word,  by  his  alter  ego,  Sidonia,  in  "  Con- 
ingsby  :  "  "  Adventures  are  to  the  adventurous." 
With  his  taste  for  the  fantastic,  and  his  sympathy 
with  the  aspiring,  he  always  had  a  certain  preference 


70  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

for  adventures  and  those  who  meet  with  them.  In 
the  political  sphere,  certainly,  an  adventurer  is  not 
an  attractive  person.  But  if  the  position  of  affairs  in 
England  about  the  year  1826  is  taken  into  account, 
it  is  easy  to  see  that  a  gleam  of  adventure  might  lure 
a  man  on,  who,  without  connections  to  help  him, 
wanted  to  carve  out  a  political  career  for  himself. 
It  was  so  customary  for  the  younger  scions  of  the 
ruling  aristocratic  families  simply  to  represent  their 
opinions,  that  he  who  tried  to  form  his  own  at  first 
hand,  and  make  a  start  in  life,  seemed  to  be  some- 
what of  an  adventurer.  But  Disraeli  made  this  ad- 
venturous feature  too  glaring ;  he  sometimes  made 
his  hero  a  true  Reineke  Fuchs,  to  give  the  reader 
an  idea  of  his  own  cleverness,  then  a  Mephistopheles, 
to  give  them  to  understand  that  this  debutant  in  life 
and  literature  was  not  to  be  trifled  with.  Thus 
Vivian  Grey  is  really  terrible,  when,  with  calculat- 
ing coolness,  he  revenges  himself  on  the  woman 
who  has  thrown  him  over,  and  who,  from  hatred  of 
him,  has  become  a  poisoner;  but  he  is  not  much 
more  cruel  than  the  author  could  be  under  some 
circumstances.  If  any  one  acquainted  with  Dis- 
raeli's writings  will  imagine  Sir  Robert  Peel,  twenty 
years  later,  as  he  writhed  upon  the  Ministerial 
bench  under  Disraeli's  cold  and  vengeful  speech,  he 
can  hardly  fail  to  be  reminded  of  the  glance  "  beam- 
ing like  that  of  a  happy  bridegroom,"  with  which 


"Vivian  Grey."  71 

Vivian  Grey  leaves  Mrs.  Felix  Lorraine,  when  she 
sinks  back  in  her  chair,  unmasked,  disarmed,  and 
entangled  in  a  net  from  which  she  cannot  escape, 
and  breaks  a  blood-vessel  from  suppressed  rage. 
The  thirst  for  revenge  is  the  same  in  the  novel  as  in 
real  life,  only  in  the  novel  it  is  too  much  in  the 
Franz  Moor  style. 

The  novel,  as  the  reader  will  perceive,  turns  on 
politics ;  it  is,  so  to  speak,  a  rehearsal  for  real  politi- 
cal chess  moves,  or  the  military  manoeuvres  in  which 
our  officers  are  prepared  for  the  tactics  of  war. 
Nature  has  but  little  place  in  this  book  ;  here  and 
there  we  have  a  moonlight  night  or  a  mountain 
landscape,  but  they  only  form  a  melodramatic  back- 
ground for  the  struggles  and  perils  of  the  adven- 
turer. Nature  is  to  Mr.  Disraeli  never  anything 
but — what  he  characteristically  calls  her  in  two  of 
his  works — an  Egeria,  that  is,  a  source  of  political 
inspiration.  He  has  taken  refuge  with  her  when 
weary  of  politics,  like  the  tired  soldier  in  the  Vivan- 
diere's  tent.  But  he  never  loved  her  for  her  own 
sake.  When  Contarini  Fleming  is  taking  lessons  in 
history  from  Numa  Pompilius,  he  exclaims :  "  I, 
too,  will  take  refuge  with  Egeria  ; "  and  he  finds 
in  a  lonely  vale  embosomed  in  trees,  the  wise 
nymph  of  political  inspiration,  and  day  after  day 
cannot  tear  himself  away  from  the  ever-recurring 
vision.  In  "  Vivian  Grey,"  Disraeli  calls  Nature  the 


72  Lord  Beaconsficld. 

"  Egeria  of  man,"  and  adds  with  bitter  humour : 
"  Refreshed  and  renovated  by  this  beautiful  com- 
munion, we  return  to  the  world,  better  enabled  to 
fight  our  parts  in  the  hot  war  of  passions,  to  per- 
form the  great  duties  for  which  man  appeared  to 
have  been  created — to  love,  to  hate,  to  slander,  and 
to  slay."  * 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  this  view  of  Nature  is 
original.  How  plainly  the  words  reveal  the  restless 
haste  with  which  the  ambitious  author  quaffs  a 
draught  from  the  beauties  of  Nature,  only  imme- 
diately to  turn  his  back  upon  her!  The  poet  in 
him  needs  Nature,  and  sees  in  her  a  Muse ;  the 
politician  only  seeks  a  stimulant  from  her,  at  most 
only  asks  from  her  a  sign,  and  thus  for  him  she 
is  transformed  into  a  sort  of  political  Muse,  who, 
initiated  into  his  plans  and  struggles,  comforts  him 
in  misfortune,  and  crowns  his  victories  with  smiles. 

The  larger  part  of  "  Vivian  Grey,"  in  which  the 
hero  travels  in  Germany,  does  not,  therefore,  con- 
tain descriptions-  of  nature,  but  in  spite  of  much 
that  is  crude  and  wanting  in  good  taste,  in  spite  of 
a  description  of  the  Bacchanalian  revels  of  the 
Rhenish  counts,  who  are  a  match  for  Victor  Hugo's 
"  Burgraves,"  it  contains  many  well-conceived  con- 
tributions to  the  characteristics  of  the  small  German 

*  "  Vivian  Grey,"  p.  109. 


"Vivian  Grey"  73 

courts  of  that  day  and  even  much  later.  There  is, 
for  instance,  a  Grand-Duke  of  Reisenburg,  who 
prides  himself  on  having  the  best  orchestra  in  the 
world,  and  who  never  misses  a  new  thing  at  a  thea- 
tre. He  is  equally  proud  of  his  scenery,  and  the 
historical  accuracy  of  his  decorations  and  costumes. 
When  he  has  Rossini's  "  Othello  "  performed,  Bra- 
bantio's  house  is  a  precise  copy  of  the  palace  San- 
sovino  or  Palladio  on  the  Grand  Canal.  Othello 
does  not,  as  usual,  appear  dressed  as  a  Moor,  for 
the  dramaturge  on  the  ducal  throne  thinks  it  far 
more  probable  that  an  adventurer,  who  has  raised 
himself  to  be  general  of  the  army  and  admiral  of 
the  fleet  of  VerTice,  would  imitate  even  to  affecta- 
tion, the  manners  of  his  adopted  country,  and  not 
venture  to  challenge  the  hatred  of  his  Christian  sol- 
diers as  a  Moor  wearing  a  turban.  Disraeli  was 
obviously  thinking  of  the  Grand-Duke  of  Saxe  Wei- 
mar, but  the  passage  reads  just  like  a  description 
of  the  ducal  theatre  of  Meiningen  of  the  present 
day. 

But  more  interesting  than  this  bit  of  description 
of  Germany,  is  one  of  the  chief  characters  in  the 
book,  the  prime  minister  of  bourgeois  origin,  Becken- 
dorf.  In  him  we  meet  for  the  first  time  in  Disraeli's 
books  with  his  ideal,  so  often  met  with  afterwards, 
and  most  elaborately  portrayed,  under  the  name  of 
Sidonia;  a  man  with  a  "master  mind,"  all-sufficient 
4 


74  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

to  himself,  and,  therefore,  the  born  master  of  other 
minds.  Beckehdorf  tells  Vivian  Grey,  who  is  the 
sport  of  destiny,  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  des- 
tiny ;  that  man,  far  from  being,  as  he  is  said  to  be, 
the  creature  of  circumstances,  himself  creates  cir- 
cumstances, if  he  is  a  man  of  the  right  sort.  Such 
a  man  has  no  other  destiny,  and  no  other  Provi- 
dence than  his  own  genius,  and  circumstances  must 
serve  his  genius  like  slaves ;  there  is  no  peril,  fear- 
ful as  it  may  appear,  from  which  a  man  may  not 
extricate  himself  by  his  own  energy,  as  the  seaman, 
by  firing  a  cannon,  may  disperse  the  waterspout 
which  hangs  over  his  head. 

In  vigorous  words  like  these  the  idea  of  the  in- 
fluence of  individual  character  upon  destiny,  which 
is  a  standing  doctrine  in  Disraeli's  writings,  is  thus 
early  expressed.  Compare  with  it  the  vindication 
of  this  faith  written  twenty  years  later :  "  It  is 
not  the  spirit  of  the  age,"  says  Coningsby.  "  The 
spirit  of  the  age,"  answers  Sidonia,  "  is  the  very 
thing  that  a  great  man  changes."  "  But  what  is  an 
individual,"  asks  Coningsby,  "  against  a  vast  public 
opinion?"  "  Divine,"  is  Sidonia's  concise  answer.* 

In  "  Tancred,"  the  last  but  one  of  Disraeli's  nov- 
els, we  find  expressions  no  less  strong,  with  the 
same  tendency ;  it  is  evidently  his  firm  belief,  as  it 

s 

"  Coningsby,"  p.  119. 


"Vivian  Grey"  75 

has  been  the  belief  of  many  other  energetic  men. 
It  is  a  faith  which  does  not  favour  the  tendency  of 
science  in  our  day,  to  ascribe  everything,  characters 
as  well  as  actions,  to  the  spirit  of  the  age,  but  it 
nevertheless  still  makes  itself  heard,  and  is,  anyhow, 
of  the  greatest  practical  import.  How  far  it  was 
Disraeli's  purpose  to  make  his  hero  profit  by  the 
vigorous  sursum  corda  which  was  addressed  to  him, 
we  are  not  told ;  the  probability  is  that  he  did  not 
know  what  to  do  with  the  young  fellow,  and  there 
fore  broke  the  story  off  suddenly.  I  have  already 
sajd  that  in  riper  years  he  did  not  overestimate  his 
'prentice  work.  He  complains  and  offers  it  as  his 
apology  that  translations  and  reprints  have  made 
the  suppression  of  this  affected  boyish  work  impos- 
sible. Whether  his  verdict  would  have  been  so  se- 
vere if  the  cynicism  of  the  first  part  had  not  soon 
begun  to  be  inconvenient  to  Disraeli,  is  a  question 
I  am  unable  to  answer. 

Only  a  year  after  he  had  given  his  first  romance 
to  the  world,  he  followed  it  by  a  smaller,  quite 
different,  and  more  amiable  one,  the  political  satire 
"  Popanilla." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  POPANILLA." 

*  "  POPANILLA  "  is  a  jest  beneath  which  neither  bit- 
terness nor  pathos  lies  concealed ;  the  satirical  darts 
fly  in  every  direction,  fantastically  and  free,  not  as 
if  with  a  wish  to  advocate  any  very  definite  political 
views,  and  therefore  to  cast  ridicule  on  the  opposjte 
party. 

In  the  Indian  Ocean  is  situated  the  Isle  of  Fan- 
taisie,  undiscovered  by  European  circumnavigators 
or  missionary  societies ;  the  climate  is  fine,  the  soil 
fruitful ;  the  inhabitants,  innocent  of  civilization, 
pass  their  lives  in  a  simple  paradisaical  state.  One 
of  them,  named  Popanilla,  finds,  while  seeking  a 
precious  lost  lock  of  hair  on  the  shore,  a  box  of 
books  which  has  been  cast  ashore  from  a  ship- 
wrecked vessel.  The  books  contain  nothing  but 
useful  knowledge — philology,  hydrostatics,  history, 
politics,  all  written  in  a  utilitarian  spirit ;  and  Po- 
panilla, who,  by  means  of  them,  discovers  to  his  dis- 
may that  his  people,  whom  he  had  considered  some 
of  the  best  in  the  world,  are  a  lot  of  useless  barba- 
rians, resolves  at  once  to  come  out  as  a  Radical  re- 

76 


"Popanilla"  77 

former,  with  the  wise  intention  of  demanding  only 
slow  and  gradual  changes.  He  begins  by  going  to 
court,  and  preaching  before  the  king  against  the 
dancing  and  singing  of  his  countrymen  as  useless 
waste  of  time.  It  was,  he  taught,  the  happiness  of 
the  community  that  was  the  chief  good,  not  that  of 
the  individual,  and  the  community  might  be  very 
happy,  wealthy,  and  powerful,  even  if  every  member 
of  it  were  wretched,  dependent,  and  in  debt.  Util- 
ity was  the  object  of  human  life ;  wants,  however, 
were  the  motives  for  progress,  and  unfortunately  for 
his  countrymen,  they  had  none.  They  spent  their 
lives  in  a  condition  of  purely  useless  well-being;  if, 
instead  of  this,  they  would  begin  to  take  advantage 
of  the  situation  and  natural  wealth  of  the  island,  its 
mineral  treasures  and  extensive  harbours,  there  was 
good  reason  to  hope  that  the  inhabitants  would 
soon  be  a  terror  to  all  other  countries,  and  in  a  con- 
dition to  disturb  and  plague  every  nation  of  impor- 
tance. 

When  the  king  of  the  Isle  of  Fantaisie  begins  to 
smile,  Popanilla  tells  him,  in  Bentham's  formula, 
that  a  king  is  only  the  first  magistrate  of  the  coun- 
try, and  that  his  Majesty  has  no  more  right  to  laugh 
at  him  than  the  village  politician.  The  king  takes 
the  reprimand  quietly ;  but  when  Popanilla  by  de- 
grees fills  the  island  with  loud-talking  schoolboys, 
the  reforms  go  too  far  for  him,  and  he  takes  the 


78  Lord  Be  aeons  field. 

spirited  revenge  of  declaring  himself  a  convert  to 
the  new  doctrines,  and,  as  a  proof  of  it,  appoints 
Popanilla  captain  of  his  mail-packet.  "  As  the  ax- 
iom of  your  school  seems  to  be  that  everything  can 
be  made  perfect  at  once,  without  time,  without  ex- 
perience, without  practice,  and  without  preparation, 
I  have  no  doubt,  with  the  aid  of  a  treatise  or  two, 
you  will  make  a  consummate  naval  commander,  al- 
though you  have  never  been  at  sea  in  the  whole 
course  of  your  life.  Farewell,  Captain  Popanilla !  "  * 
And  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  the  Radical  reformer 
is  at  sea  in  a  canoe,  with  water  and  provisions  for  a 
few  days. 

The  purpose  of  this  rather  mild  joke  about  utili- 
tarianism is  to  show  the  fundamental  discrepancy 
between  progress  in  civilization  and  the  greatest 
happiness  of  the  greatest  number,  which  are  com- 
bined in  the  utilitarian  theory,  and,  thus  combined, 
are  declared  to  be  its  aims.  Disraeli  implies  that 
there  is  a  contradiction  in  them,  and  that  a  choice 
of  one  or  the  other  must  be  made,  since  the  advance 
of  civilization  brings  disaster  and  misery  to  individ- 
uals, while  the  greatest  happiness  may  be  found  on 
the  lowest  stage  of  civilization,  or  without  any  at 
all.  The  utilitarians  used  to  mourn  over  the  scanty 
wants  of  a  people ;  he  makes  game  of  this  by  mak- 

*  "Popanilla,"  p.  384. 


"Popanilla"  79 

ing  Popanilla  mention  it  as  the  misfortune  of  his 
people  that  they  are  so  happy  without  civilization.* 
For  the  sake  of  the  jest,  he  had  to  presuppose  an 
original  paradisaical  state  of  nature  a  la  Rousseau, 
which  has  scarcely  ever  been  found  by  any  one  else ; 
he  certainly  did  not  find  it  himself  in  Cyprus,  when, 
in  1878,  it  fell  to  his  lot  as  Prime  Minister  to  have 
Popanilla's  speech  made  to  the  natives.  In  my 
opinion,  this  assault  does  not  really  hit  the  utilitari- 
ans. True  civilization  must  in  the  end  increase  the 
happiness  of  the  masses  ;  the  happiness  of  the  child 
or  the  savage  is  not  the  highest  happiness.  John 
Stuart  Mill  says,  in  his  "Theory  of  Utilitarianism : " 
"  It  is  better  to  be  a  human  being  dissatisfied  than 
a  pig  satisfied,  better  to  be  Socrates  dissatisfied  than 
a  fool  satisfied."  And  he  is  right ;  greater  sensitive- 
ness, even  to  pain,  is  not  too  dear  a  price  to  pay  for 
increase  of  the  value  of  life. 

The  banished  reformer  lands  in  the  empire  of 
Braibleusia,  "  the  freest  country  in  the  world,"  where 
freedom  consists  in  every  one's  being  at  liberty 
to  do  exactly  like  everybody  else — a  country  pre- 
cisely like  Great  Britain.  From  the  moment  of  his 
reaching  this  country,  it  is  all  satire  on  the  social 
condition,  manners,  and  constitution  of  England. 

*  The  same  paradox  has  been  pointed  out  byEduard  von  Hart- 
ni.inn,  in  a  speech  of  Lassalle's  to  German  artisans.  ("  Phanomeno- 
logie  des  Sittlichen  Bewusstseyns,"  p.  637.) 


8o  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

Everything  that  in  the  public  opinion  of  that  day 
was  above  criticism — the  doctrine  that  England  was 
the  home  of  civil  and  religious  liberty,  and  that  free 
trade  was  the  only  true  principle  of  political  econ- 
omy— is  made  the  subject  of  satire.  Blind  English 
Conservatism  is  hit  by  a  satire  on  the  antiquated 
constitution  of  courts  of  justice.  An  attack  on  the 
Corn  Laws  shows,  as  some  passages  in  "Vivian 
Grey  "  do  also,  that  Disraeli  little  then  foresaw  the 
part  he  was  to  play  in  future  as  their  advocate. 
Things  turn  out  very  badly  for  Popanilla  in  Brai- 
bleusia;  after  being  feted  for  a  while,  he  is  unjustly 
banished,  and  on  meditating  on  his  fate,  he  comes  to 
the  conclusion  that,  if  a  state  of  nature  is  not  very 
admirable,  a  country  like  that  he  had  just  visited 
was  too  artificial,  might  have  too  many  assumed 
principles,  a  civilization  too  unnatural.  With  this 
moral  the  story  ends,  just  as  the  reader  begins  to 
weary  of  the  long-drawn  allegory — and  Popanilla 
sets  out  on  his  long  voyage. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TRAVELS  ABROAD. 

DISRAELI  soon  followed  his  example.  From  1829- 
31  he  was  on  his  travels.  It  is,  so  to  speak,  the  cor- 
rect thing  for  young  men  of  the  higher  classes  in 
England  to  finish  their  student  years  with  a  grand 
tour,  which  introduces  them  to  active  life.  All 
young  men  have  a  desire  to  see  the  world,  and  no 
one  more  so  than  he  who  does  not  feel  himself  al- 
together in  harmony  with  his  native  land.  There 
are  many  indications  in  Disraeli's  writings  that  a 
certain  discontent  immediately  preceded  his  travels. 
The  first  embarrassment  in  which  we  find  ourselves 
generally  leads  to  our  first  travels,  he  says  some- 
where ;  and  the  heroes  in  both  his  earliest  romances 
set  forth  at  a  juncture  when  staying  at  home  had 
grown  painful  to  them.  Perhaps  various  unfavour- 
able notices  of  his  first  works  might  have  contri- 
buted to  the  desire  for  a  long  residence  abroad,  or  it 
may  have  been  that  he  was  merely  actuated  by  love 
of  travel  and  knowledge.  Formerly,  young  Eng- 
lishmen went  on  the  Continent  to  see  what,  ac- 
cording to  Lord  Bacon,  "  especially  deserves  to  be 

4*  8l 


82  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

seen  and  observed,"  the  courts  of  sovereigns ;  at 
that  time,  however,  they 'travelled,  as  some  one  in 
"  Vivian  Grey  "  remarks,  "  to  look  at  mountains,  and 
catch  cold  in  spouting  trash  on  lakes  by  moon- 
light." * 

As  a  politician  and  novelist,  the  objects  of  travel 
of  the  seventeenth  century  had  as  much  attraction 
for  Disraeli  as  those  of  the  nineteenth.  Courts  had  an 
attraction  for  him,  and  he  was  no  less  fascinated  by 
the  romance  of  certain  cities  and  neighbourhoods. 
He  had  made  a  short  tour  before,  as  is  shown  by 
"  Vivian  Grey."  Now  it  was  not  the  countries  and 
cities  mostly  visited  by  everyday  European  travel- 
lers, nor  any  of  the  larger  centres  of  civilization 
which  attracted  him.  No,  totally  different  names 
had  rung  in  his  ears  from  childhood  —  Syria,  Jeru- 
salem, Spain,  Venice. 

Everybody  has,  besides  his  accidental  home  on 
earth,  some  other  cognate  one  which  he  dreams  of 
and  longs  for.  With  his  double  nationality,  and 
from  dwelling  on  the  memories  of  the  race  and  his 
forefathers,  Disraeli  had  from  his  earliest  youth  an 
ardent  longing  for  the  East.  He  longed  to  see  the 
spots  on  which  the  eyes  of  his  forefathers  had  rested, 
to  tread  the  soil  trodden  by  their  feet ;  in  these 
spots  he  felt  that  his  prematurely  hardened  spirit 

*  "  Vivian  Grey,"  p.  209. 


Travels  Abroad.  83 

would  be  softened,  his  oppressed  soul  would  expand 
with  devotion.  Yes,  it  was  just  this  ;  for  a  pilgrim- 
age to  those  lands  was  to  him  not  only  a  longing 
desire,  but  a  religion.  He  wanted  to  behold  that 
glowing  land  which  was  the  cradle  of  the  race ;  the 
holy  city  which  his  people  had  built,  lost,  rebuilt, 
and  lost  again ;  the  sacred  mount  whence  their  re- 
ligion, which  had  conquered  Europe,  had  gone  forth. 
Still,  as  every  man  only  belongs  to  his  nation 
through  family  ties,  the  spots  connected  with  the 
family  are  dearer  to  him  than  those  belonging  to  the 
race.  He  wanted  to  see  the  countries  on  the  Medi- 
terranean, where  his  fathers  had  dwelt  for  five  hun- 
dred years ;  Spain,  where,  under  the  protection  of 
their  Moorish  brethren,  they  had  made  progress  in 
civilization,  and  produced  poetry  in  the  ancient  lan- 
guage of  the  race ;  and  he  sought  among  the  names 
of  the  distinguished  families  of  Spain  for  the  one 
which  his  fathers  might  have  borne  before  they 
changed  it,  and  lingered  dreamily  over  the  proud 
and  fine-sounding  name  of  Sidonia,  which,  years 
afterwards,  he  gave  to  one  of  his  heroes  in  "  Alar- 
cos  "  and  "  Coningsby ;  "  but,  above  all,  he  longed  to 
behold  the  wonderful  city  on  the  Adriatic,  whose 
patron,  St.  Mark,  himself  a  child  of  Israel,  had  been 
so  kind  a  lord  to  the  banished  race.  When,  as  a 
boy  on  his  grandfather's  knee,  he  had  heard  of  the 
city  of  the  doges,  with  its  floating  palaces,  and  learnt 


84  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

that  the  city  was  no  longer  free,  he  had  in  his  early 
dreams  fancied  himself  the  liberator  and  doge  of  the 
restored  republic.  Now,  as  a  young  man,  he  longed 
to  see  Venice  as  he  longed  to  see  Jerusalem.  It 
seemed  to  him  as  if  he  must  go  there,  as  if  he  were 
expected,  had  been  expected  for  centuries — he,  the 
inheritor  of  all  these  memories.  Distant  voices 
seemed  to  call  him,  and  the  blood  in  his  veins  an- 
swered, and  his  heart  beat  high  for  this  fantastic 
calling,  until  the  day  came  for  him  to  bid  farewell 
to  his  father,  and  to  address  to  England  the  parting 
words  which,  some  years  later,  he  made  Contarini 
Fleming  address  to  his  Scandinavian  home :  "  And 
thou,  too,  Scandinavia,  stern  soil  in  which  I  have 
too  long  lingered,  think  of  me  hereafter  as  of  some 
exotic  bird,  which  for  a  moment  lost  its  way  in  thy 
cold  heaven,  but  now  has  regained  its  course,  and 
wings  its  flight  to  a  more  brilliant  earth  and  a 
brighter  sky !  "  * 

Disraeli  has  not  written  anything  about  the  jour- 
ney itself.  But  we  find  from  his  writings  that  he 
visited  all  the  countries  bordering  on  the  Mediter- 
ranean, that  he  was  in  Rome  and  Constantinople  in 
1829,  Albania  in  1830,  Egypt,  Syria,  and  Jerusalem 
in  1831.  The  tour  has  left  traces  in  all  his  works, 
and  whole  works  owe  their  origin  to  it. 

*  "  Contarini  Fleming,"  p.  190. 


Travels  Abroad.  85 

Various  feelings  agitated  the  mind  of  the  young 
traveller  as,  for  the  first  time,  he  approached  Ven- 
ice. When  Contarini  Fleming  was  nearing  the 
Italian  frontier,  he  dreamed  one  night  at  a  village 
at  the  foot  of  the  Simplon  that  he  was  in  a  large 
apartment  in  a  palace,  where  richly  clad  and  hon- 
ourable men  were  sitting  in  council,  and  that  the 
president,  on  seeing  him,  held  out  his  hand  to  him, 
and  said  with  a  smile,  "  You  have  been  long  ex- 
pected." The  council  is  at  an  end*  and  the  presi- 
dent, as  cicerone,  conducts  Contarini  into  a  smaller 
apartment,  hung  with  pictures,  where,  on  one  side 
of  the  door,  there  was  a  portrait  of  Julius  Caesar, 
and  on  the  other  of  Contarini.  His  guide  points  to 
the  portrait  and  says,  "  You  have  been  long  ex- 
pected. There  is  a  great  resemblance  between  you 
and  your  uncle."  *  A  third  time  he  hears  it  con- 
firmed in  his  dream  that  he  has  been  expected  in 
these  halls  ;  and  suddenly  he  beholds  a  splendid 
city,  whose  marble  palaces  gleam  in  the  sunlight 
along  a  broad  canal,  where  multitudes  of  long  boats 
pass  to  and  fro  on  the  blue  waters,  and  then  he 
knows  where  he  is.  No  sooner  is  he  awake  than 
he  proceeds  to  Venice.  The  first  thing  he  meets  in 
the  street  is  a  procession  of  chanting  priests  with 
their  saint,  and  when  he  hears  the  words  of  the 

*  "  Contarini  Fleming,"  p.  197. 


86  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

hymn,  it  seems  to  him  that  these  words  are  appli- 
cable to  himself — "  Wave  your  banners  !  Sound, 
sound  your  voices !  for  he  has  come,  he  has  come  ! 
our  saint  and  our  Lord !  He  has  come  in  pride  and 
in  glory,  to  meet  with  love  his  Adrian  bride."  * 

In  such  a  frame  of  mind  as  this  Disraeli  first  took 
boat  on  the  canals  of  Venice,  and  set  foot  on  the 
Piazza.  Some  have  loved  the  beautiful  city,  with- 
out dust  or  noise,  for  its  peculiarity ;  others  for  its 
art  treasures  ;  others,  yet  again,  for  its  historical  as- 
sociations ;  but  Disraeli's  love  was  not  so  impersonal. 
He  had  no  enthusiasm  for  the  Venetian  school  of 
art,  nor  for  its  aristocratic  republican  constitution, 
whose  introduction  into  England  he  began,  a  few 
years  later,  to  mourn  over  and  attack.  The  city 
moved  him  so  deeply  because  it  had  been  the 
asylum  of  his  fathers ;  he  loved  it  for  the  sake  of 
his  kin,  his  race.  It  is  chiefly  personal  reasons  like 
these  that  call  forth  his  love. 

But  Venice  only  stills  his  first  thirst  for  seeing. 
No  country  or  city  of  Europe  could  turn  his  mind 
from  the  East.  He  visited  Egypt,  saw  the  Pyra- 
mids, for  which  his  people  of  old  had  had  to  drag 
the  materials,  stone  by  stone.  He  succeeded  in 
getting  several  audiences  of  the  reigning  pasha, 
and,  having  attracted  the  notice  of  Mehemet  Ali 

*  "  Contarini  Fleming,"  p.  207. 


Travels  Abroad.  87 

by  his  ready  and  thoughtful  answers,  Mehemet 
seems  to  have  even  asked  his  advice  as  to  the  sys- 
tem of  government  best  adapted  to  the  country. 
He  has  meritioned  this,  not  without  pride,  in  his 
"  Vindication  of  the  English  Constitution,"  where 
the  travelled  young  Englishman  is,  of  course,  the 
author  himself.  It  was  in  the  year  1829  that  an 
assembly  had  been  convened  by  the  reform-loving 
Egyptian  despot  at  Cairo,  which  might,  according 
to  Turkish  notions,  be  called  a  representation  of 
the  people,  and  the  pasha  asked  the  intelligent 
young  Englishman  what  he  thought  of  an  Egyp- 
tian representative  constitution  after  the  English 
pattern. 

"The  surprise  of  our  countryman,  when  he  re- 
caived  the  communication  of  the  pasha,  was  not 
inconsiderable  ;  but  he  was  one  of  those  who  had 
seen  sufficient  of  the  world  never  to  be  astonished  ; 
not  altogether  untinctured  with  political  knowledge, 
and  gifted  with  that  philosophical  exemption  from 
prejudice  which  is  one  of  the  most  certain  and  most 
valuable  results  of  extensive  travel.  Our  country- 
man communicated  to  the  Egyptian  ruler,  with 
calmness  and  with  precision,  the  immediate  difficul- 
ties that  occurred  to  him,  explained  to  the  successor 
of  the  Pharaohs  and  the  Ptolemies  that  the  political 
institutions  of  England  had  been  the  gradual  growth 
of  ages,  and  that  there  is  no  political  function  which 


88  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

demands  a  finer  discipline  or  a  more  regulated  prep- 
aration than  the  exercise  of  popular  franchise."  * 

Disraeli  with  Mehemet  Ali  is  a  sort  of  historical 
parallel  to  Byron  with  Ali  Pasha.  Byron's  vanity 
is  flattered  because  Ali  discerns  the  aristocrat  in  his 
outward  appearance ;  Disraeli's  because  Mehemet 
discovers  his  political  sagacity. 

It  is  plain  that  it  was  not  clear  to  Disraeli  at  that 
time  whether  poetry  or  politics  was  his  true  voca- 
tion. His  self-esteem  inclined  him  to  overrate  his 
abilities,  and  while  wandering  in  Byron's  footsteps 
in  the  East,  he  often  fancied  that  English  poetry 
would  find  compensation  in  him  for  what  it  had  lost. 
Self-criticism  was  never  his  strong  point,  especially 
in  his  youth.  Perhaps  nothing  in  his  life  has  given 
plainer  proof  of  this  than  what  he  tells  us  of  a  poet- 
ical idea  which  he  conceived  soon  after  setting  foot 
on  Asiatic  soil.  In  a  high-flown  and  theatrical  pre- 
face, he  tells  us  how,  as  he  wandered  over  the  plains 
of  Troy,  with  his  head  full  of  the  Homeric  poems, 
he  cursed  his  fate  in-  having  been  born  in  an  age 
which  boasted  of  being  un poetic  ;  and  how,  just  as 
the  lightning  flashed  over  Mount  Ida,  the  idea 
flashed  into  his  mind  that  all  the  great  epic  poems 
in  the  world  had  embraced  the  spirit  of  a  complete 
age,  and  that  he,  in  order  to  be  a  true  poet,  had 

*  "  Vindication  of  the  English  Constitution,"  p.  102. 


Travels  Abroad.  89 

only  to  give  poetic  expression  to  his  own.  He  goes 
on  to  say  that  the  heroic  epic,  the  "Iliad,"  origi- 
nated in  the  greatest  heroic  deed  of  a  heroic  age; 
the  political  epic,  the  "  ^Eneid,"  in  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Roman  Empire  of  the  world;  the 
national  epic  of  Dante,  in  the  first  dawn  of  the  Re- 
naissance ;  the  religious  epic  of  Milton  in  the  Refor- 
mation and  its  results;  and  he  then  asks  himself 
whether  the  spirit  of  his  own  age  is  to  remain  un- 
sung. "  How,"  I  exclaimed,  "  is  the  French  Revo- 
lution an  event  of  less  importance  than  the  siege  of 
Troy?  Is  Napoleon  a  less  interesting  character 
than  Achilles?  The  revolutionary  epic  has  been  re- 
served for  me." 

I  will  not  now  dwell  on  the  grotesque  coupling  of 
the  names  of  Homer,  Virgil,  Dante,  and  Milton, 
with  that  of  Disraeli,  nor  on  the  parallel  between 
the  most  famous  poems  in  the  world  and  an  epic  of 
which  but  an  unhappy  fragment  ever  saw  the  light, 
only  to  retreat  into  the  dark  womb  of  obscurity, 
scared  by  the  ridicule  with  which  it  was  assailed ; 
but  I  wish  to  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  Disraeli, 
whom  we  find  warning  Mehemet  AH  against  radical 
attempts  at  reform,  was  in  his  youth  attracted  to 
the  French  Revolution  as  the  most  important  and 
interesting  subject  of  the  age.  He  was  never  ad- 
verse in  principle  to  modern  political  ideas.  When 
he  has  opposed  them,  it  has  been  from  interested 


90  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

motives  or  on  some  incidental  ground.  There  is  a 
great  difference  in  this  respect  between  him  and 
theoretical  Conservatives,  like  his  present  colleague 
in  the  Ministry,  Lord  Salisbury.  He  has  even  a 
curious  sympathy  with  decidedly  revolutionary  phe- 
nomena. In  his  writings  he  has  portrayed  men  like 
Byron,  Shelley,  and  Mazzini  in  a  remarkably  favour- 
able light.  He  has,  in  his  old  age,  described  with 
absolute  enthusiasm  the  character  of  a  goddess  of 
liberty,  the  very  ideal  of  revolutionary  freedom, 
Theodora  in  "  Lothair."  Many  will  have  queried, 
in  reading  his  books,  whether  there  was  not  a  touch 
of  the  revolutionist  in  the  bosom  of  the  old  Tory 
leader.  The  question,  What  is  the  inmost  or  deep- 
est sentiment  in  a  man  ?  is  always  difficult  to  an- 
swer, especially  in  the  case  of  very  composite  char- 
acters. 

In  reviewing  the  whole  of  Disraeli's  literary  pro- 
ductions, and  the  whole  of  his  political  action,  there 
will  always  be  found  beneath  the  Conservative 
groundwork  a  layer  of  Radicalism,  and  at  the  same 
time  a  firm  Conservative  basis  beneath  any  surface 
Radicalism.  On  the  religious  question,  he  has  from 
the  first  been  on  the  liberal  side,  frut  the  desire  to 
assert  the  absolute  superiority  of  his  race  has  com- 
pelled him  to  make  the  very  most  of  the  religious 
benefits  which  it  has  conferred  on  mankind,  and  of 
the  gratitude  which  mankind  owes  it.  He  began 


Travels  Abroad.  91 

his  career  as  a  novelist  with  "  Vivian  Grey,"  with- 
out any  particular  principle,  and  his  first  political 
brochure  was  ultra-Radical ;  I  have  already  referred 
to  the  political  reactionary  impressions  he  had  re- 
ceived from  his  father.  Did  they  at  first  excite  his 
opposition?  A  youth  so  much  inclined  to  make 
himself  the  standard  of  all  things,  without  regard  to 
any  external  authority,  must  inevitably  have  a  strong 
tendency  to  opposition ;  but  who  can  say  whether 
what  appears  uppermost  is  also  the  deepest  down 
in  a  man's  heart?  Besides,  all  such  expressions  are 
but  metaphors. 

"  The  Revolutionary  Epic,"  which,  although  con- 
ceived when  on  his  travels,  was  not  published  till 
1834,  and  may  have  undergone  several  Conservative 
retouches  in  the  interval,  was  intended  to  depict  the 
struggle  between  the  feudal  and  the  federative  prin- 
ciple, and  the  transition  from  the  one  to  the  other. 
The  fragment  which  appeared  began  with  strange, 
supernatural  machinery.  Magros,  the  genius  of  feu- 
dalism, and  Lyridon,  the  genius  of  federalism,  plead 
in  turn  for  their  cause,  and  it  ends  by  Napoleon — 
Lyridon  (!)  giving  his  word  as  a  pledge  of  faith ;  the 
third  canto  accompanies  him  through  the  whole 
Italian  campaign  to  the  conquest  of  Lombardy,  and 
closes  with  the  planting  of  the  Tree  of  Liberty.  In 
the  preface,  the  author  made  the  continuation  of  the 
work  dependent  on  the  verdict  of  the  public,  and 


92  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

said  that  if  it  were  unfavourable,  he  would,  without 
regret,  hurl  his  lyre  into  the  nether  regions. 

There  were  far  deeper  impressions  and  stronger 
excitements  in  store  for  Disraeli  on  his  tour  than 
those  which  he  experienced  on  the  plains  of  Troy, 
and  the  deepest  of  all  was  on  the  day  when,  after  a 
ride  of  several  hours  among  wild  and  barren  rocks, 
he  ascended  a  hill,  and  was  told  that  it  was  the 
Mount  of  Olives,  and  beheld  before  him  a  city  on 
the  steep  and  lofty  precipice,  surrounded  by  an  old 
wall,  which,  with  its  towers,  pinnacles,  and  gates, 
rose  and  fell,  wavelike,  with  the  undulating  ground. 
His  eye  lingered  on  the  splendid  mosque  which 
towered  above  the  city,  on  the  beautiful  gardens  in 
front  of  it,  and  the  numberless  cupolas  which  rose 
above  the  light-coloured  stone  houses,  and  he  felt 
that  he  was  gazing  on  Jerusalem.  One  of  the  old 
Crusaders  could  scarcely  have  been  more  deeply 
moved  than  he  was,  though  his  feelings  might  have 
been  different.  They  loved  the  city  for  heaven's 
sake,  for  the  salvation  which  the  conquest  of  it  was 
to  procure  for  them  ;  he  loved  it  for  the  sake  of  the 
race  which  had  built  it.  He  mentally  compared  the 
city  of  the  many  hills  before  him  with  the  city  of 
seven  hills  in  Europe,  and  remembered  with  pride 
that  Moriah,  Zion,  and  Calvary  were  far  more  famous 
than  the  Aventine  and  the  Capitol ;  for  not  Asia 
alone,  but  Christian  Europe  knew  their  names,  while 


Travels  Abroad.  93 

in  Mohammedan  Asia  the  others  were  but  empty 
sounds.  The  old  Crusaders  considered  the  Saracens 
unworthy  to  possess  the  Holy  City  and  the  Holy 
Sepulchre ;  he  considered  them  far  more  worthy 
than  any  of  the  European  hosts;  for  not  only  did 
they  venerate  the  city  and  the  sepulchre,  these  sons 
of  the  desert  were  far  more  nearly  allied  to  Him 
who  had  lain  in  the  grave  than  any  Teuton  or  Gaul. 
The  Crusaders  held  faith  to  be  all  in  all ;  he  knew, 
as  he  oft  repeated  to  himself,  that  "  all  is  race ;  there 
is  no  other  truth."  * 

He  felt  himself  at  home  in  this  country  where 
there  were  caravans  of  turban-wearing  men ;  where 
the  sheikh,  as  thousands  of  years  before,  was  the 
patriarch  of  his  tribe,  and  opened  his  tent  to  him  as 
in  the  olden  time.  He  loved  these  palms,  these 
cedars  and  olive  groves.  And  when  Jerusalem  lay 
before  him  in  the  glow  of  a  summer  day,  like  a  city 
of  stone  in  a  land  of  iron  under  a  fiery  heaven  ;  and 
when  the  burning  glare  of  the  surrounding  land- 
scape made  the  spectator  afraid  of  being  blinded ; 
when  everything  was  so  awfully  and  brilliantly  clear, 
that  the  pilgrim  stood  like  the  shadowless  man  in 
the  fairy  tale,  with  a  shadowless  world  around  him 


*  Sidonia  in  "Tancred."  Compare  his  expressions  in  "  Con- 
ingsby  "  and  Disraeli's  own  in  the  "  Life  of  Lord  George  Bentinck," 
and  in  the  "  General  Preface."  In  "  Tancred"  the  author  calls  this 
dogma  "  the  great  truth  into  which  all  truths  merge." 


94  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

— he  felt  his  brilliant  mind  and  his  fiery  imagination 
to  be  akin  to  this  arid  and  glowing  land.  There 
was  no  shady  spot  in  his  soul,  there  was  no  place 
there  for  rest  or  repose;  he  had  always  despised 
and  shunned  the  shady  aspects  of  life.  He  was 
happy  in  this  land,  where  every  inch  of  ground  re- 
minded him  of  Israel's  greatness  ;  at  the  foot  of 
Sinai,  from  which  the  law  of  Moses  was  proclaimed, 
to  be  learned  even  now  by  every  civilized  child  ; 
among  the  ruins  of  the  Temple,  which  recalled  to 
mind  the  great  king,  whose  wisdom  still  lives  in  the 
Proverbs  ;  at  Gethsemane,  where  the  martyr  had 
suffered,  whose  pure  and  simple  teaching  has  con- 
quered the  Western  world.  He  did  not  in  his  re- 
flections separate  Jesus  from  the  other  lights  of  the 
Hebrew  nation.  He  did  not  doubt  that  Jesus  was 
descended  from  the  royal  house  of  David  ;  Biblical 
criticism  did  not  then  exist,  and  even  when  it  was 
introduced  it  did  not  fit  in  with  Disraeli's  system  to 
degrade  the  genealogy  of  Jesus  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment into  a  mere  invention  with  a  special  purpose ; 
Jesus  must  and  should  be  a  prince.  It  is  deeply 
characteristic  of  Disraeli's  mental  habit,  that  in  the 
numerous  passages  in  his  works  where  Jesus  is  men- 
tioned, he  never  speaks  of  Him  otherwise  than  as  a 
Hebrew  prince,  a  Hebrew  ruler.  His  estimate  of 
Him  is  increased  because  He  comes  of  the  aristo- 
cratic blood  of  the  race;  the  instinctive  attraction 


Travels  Abroad.  95 

which  he  had  always  felt  for  the  highest  aristocracy 
compelled  him  in  this  case  to  lay  most  stress  on 
that  which  best  comported  with  his  ideal ;  hence  it 
is  that  the  royal  blood,  the  princely  descent,  is  much 
more  to  him  than  the  supernatural  origin ;  and  so 
much  the  more  because  the  latter  made  the  former 
impossible,  as  it  is  Joseph,  not  Mary,  who  is  shown 
to  be  the  descendant  of  David.  That  Disraeli, 
nevertheless,  from  the  moment  when  he  appeared 
as  a  Conservative  statesman,  was  not  afraid  of  the 
paradox  of  maintaining  extreme  orthodoxy,  is  to  be 
explained  by  the  fact  that,  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, a  statesman,  especially  in  England,  and  espe- 
cially a  Conservative,  must,  above  allt  things,  offer 
orthodox  guarantees  ;  but  it  was  also  to  be  attrib- 
uted to  the  fear  that,  if  he  dropped  the  supernatural 
origin  of  Je'sus,  he  would  be  depriving  his  race  of 
the  nimbus  which  encircled  it,  as  the  people  among 
whom  God  Himself,  as  Redeemer  of  the  race,  was 
born.  But  his  own  private  ideas  respecting  Jesus 
were  different  when  on  the  soil  of  Palestine.  He 
compared  Him,  in  his  reveries,  with  Caesar  and 
Alexander,  who  were  both  deified  after  death,  and 
he  found  new  proof  of  the  superiority  of  his  race  by 
comparing  the  duration  of  their  influence  as  deities, 
with  that  of  Jesus  considered  as  God.  Both  were 
called  gods,  but  who  burnt  incense  to  them  now  ? 
Not  even  their  own  nations  worshipped  them,  while 


g6  Lord  Be  aeons  field. 

they  and  scores  of  others  bend  the  knee  before  the 
altars  erected  to  the  descendant  of  David.  Could 
there,  be  a  greater  triumph  for  the  race  which  he 
felt  to  be  personified  in  himself  ?  What  was  this 
New  Testament  ?  According  to  its  own  testimony, 
it  was  only  a  supplement.  Jesus  came  to  fulfil  the 
law  and  the  prophets.  It  was,  therefore,  by  no 
means  enough  to  say  that  Christianity  was  unintel- 
ligible without  Judaism.  If  Christianity  was  not 
Judaism  completed,  it  was  nothing.  What  was 
the  fundamental  difference  between  Jesus  and  His 
predecessors?  It  was  that  through  Him  "God's 
Word  "  was  diffused  among  the  Gentiles,  and  not 
among  the  Jews  only.  And  Disraeli  summed  up 
his  conception  in  this  concise  and  Jewish-aristo- 
cratic phrase,  "  Christianity  is  Judaism  for  the  mul- 
titude." * 

But  different  as  his  sentimentality  was  from  that 
of  the  Crusaders,  he  had  poetic  dreams  which  were 
akin  to  their  poetic  religious  projects.  He,  too, 
dreamed  of  a  liberation  of  this  country,  inasmuch 
as  in  his  imagination  he  pictured  former  attempts 
to  do  it ;  the  peculiarity  of  them  was  that  the 
liberation  was  to  restore  the  country  to  the  original 
race. 

It  was  at  the   burial-place,  north  of  Jerusalem, 

*  "Sybil,"  p.  130.     "  Tancred,"  p.  427. 


Travels  Abroad.  97 

called  the  Tombs  of  the  Kings — and  of  its  very  un- 
certain title  to  the  name  he,  in  his  romantic  mood, 
entertained  no  doubt — that  the  memory  of  a  figure 
of  the  twelfth  century  occurred  to  him,  which  had 
interested  him  even  in  his  boyish  years,  and  whose 
character  and  fate  he  had  early  begun  to  weave 
into  a  fiction.  This  was  the  Jewish  prince,  and 
afterwards  legendary  hero,  Alroy. 

He  lived  at  a  time  when  the  Caliphate  was  weak- 
ened, and  four  Seljuk  sultans  had  divided  the  in- 
heritance of  the  Prophet  between  them ;  but  they, 
in  their  turn,  had  begun  to  languish  from  luxurious 
living,  and  therefore  saw  with  concern  the  increas- 
ing power  of  the  kings  of  Karasme.  Although  the 
Jewish  nation  after  the  conquest  of  Jerusalem  had 
acknowledged  the  supremacy  of  its  conquerors,  the 
Jews  of  the  East  still  retained  self-government 
within  certain  limits.  They  had  their  own  courts  of 
justice  under  a  governor  of  their  own  race,  who  bore 
the  title  of  the  "Prince  of  the  Captivity."  The 
power  of  this  prince  always  rose  and  fell  in  inverse 
proportion  to  that  of  the  Caliphate,  and  the  annals 
of  the  people  tell  of  periods  when  the  Prince  of  the 
Captivity  enjoyed  power  and  dignity  scarcely  less 
than  those  of  the  ancient  kings  of  Judah.  David 
Alroy  was  one  of  these  princes,  the  memory  of 
whom  was  recalled  to  Disraeli's  mind  by  the 
Tombs  of  the  Kings,  and  he  pictured  to  himself 

5 


98  Lord  Beaconsficld. 

his  inner  life.  What  a  painful  paradox,  even  in  the 
title !  A  prince  without  territory  or  independence, 
a  tributary  prince,  the  ruler  of  a  captive  people ! 
Disraeli  knew  what  he  must  have  had  to  suffer  who 
was  born  to  be  a  ruler  of  this  sort ;  he  could  readily 
imagine  Alroy's  humiliation  and  grief  when  the  first 
yearly  tribute-money  was  demanded  by  his  power- 
ful oppressors ;  and  even  though  he  found  his  peo- 
ple not  only  despised  and  scorned,  and  still  worse, 
so  degraded  that  they  no  longer  cared,  but  doggedly 
put  up  with  it  all,  even  though  they  were  so  en- 
slaved and  dishonoured  that  their  state  by  the  rivers 
of  Babylon  was  a  paradise  compared  with  it !  ... 
See  the  chief  of  the  Seljuks  now  defies  David  Alroy 
himself ;  he  even  dares  to  lay  hands  on  his  sister ! 
Now  the  measure  is  filled  up  ;  Alroy  slays  the  ty- 
rant, flies  the  country,  and  resolves  to  become  Isra- 
el's deliverer.  Why  should  he  not  succeed?  The 
greatest  of  the  ancient  kings,  the  first  David,  had 
raised  himself  to  the  throne  from  being  the  out- 
lawed captain  of  freebooters ;  why  should  not  he  be 
able  to  do  what  his  fathers  had  done?  Solomon 
had  built  the  Temple,  and  made  the  kingdom  fa- 
mous ;  he  would  rebuild  the  Temple,  and  make  the 
kingdom  more  famous  than  ever.  .  He  would  wield 
the  sceptre  which  Solomon  had  wielded ;  he  would 
make  the  times,  which  lay  buried  in  the  Tombs  of 
the  Kings,  rise  up  again  from  the  dead. 


Travels  Abroad.  99 

And  Disraeli  gazed  across  the  great  forecourt 
hewn  in  the  rock,  to  the  Tombs  of  the  Kings — on 
the  western  side  of  them  a  vestibule  opened,  once 
supported  by  pillars,  the  stone  pediment  of  which 
was  still  decorated  with  a  carved  frieze  of  uncom- 
mon beauty — and  he  dreamed  that  the  fugitive  Al- 
roy  approached  this  place  by  magic,  where  the  de- 
parted kings  of  Israel  were  sitting  on  their  thrones, 
and  the  realities  around  him  resolved  themselves 
into  a  splendid  imaginative  picture.  David  Alroy 
had  to  pass  through  long  alleys  of  colossal  lions  of 
red  granite  till  he  came  to  an  enormous  portal  in 
the  rock,  several  hundred  feet  high,  supported  by 
immense  caryatides.  Alroy  presses  his  signet-ring 
against  this  gigantic  door ;  it  opens  with  a  rumbling 
noise,  like  that  of  an  earthquake,  and,  pale  and 
trembling,  the  Prince  of  the  Captivity  enters  the 
vast  hall,  which  is  lighted  with  hanging  globes  of 
glowing  metal.  On  either  side  are  seated,  on 
thrones  of  gold,  the  kings  of  Israel,  and  as  the  pil- 
grim enters,  they  all  rise,  take  off  their  diadems, 
wave  them  three  times,  and  three  times  repeat,  in 
solemn  chorus,  "All  hail,  Alroy!  Hail  to  thee, 
brother  king  !  Thy  crown  awaits  thee  !  "  *  As 
Contarini  Fleming  was  expected  at  Venice,  so  Da- 
vid Alroy  is  expected  here. 

*  "Alroy,"  p.  91. 


IOO  Lord  Bcacomfield. 

He  stands,  trembling,  with  downcast  eyes,  leaning 
against  a  pillar ;  but  when,  having  come  to  himself, 
he  looks  up,  he  finds  that  the  kings  are  still  sitting 
on  their  thrones,  gazing  lifelessly  before  them,  appa- 
rently unaware  of  Alroy's  presence.  He  advances 
into  the  hall  till  he  comes  to  an  immense  throne, 
extending  all  across  the  room  and  towering  high 
above  the  others.  A  figure  with  imperial  bearing 
sits  enthroned  on  it,  who  amazes  and  dazzles  Alroy. 
Ivory  steps,  every  step  guarded  by  a  lion  of  gold, 
lead  to  a  jasper  throne.  Light  emanates  from  the 
glittering  diadem  of  the  figure  and  from  its  face, 
which  all  at  once  becomes  beautiful  as  a  woman's 
and  majestic  as  a  god's.  In  one  hand  he  holds  a 
signet-ring,  in  the  other  a  sceptre. 

When  Alroy  reaches  the  foot  of  the  throne,  he 
stands  still  for  a  moment,  and  feels  as  if  his  courage 
would  fail  him.  But  he  soon  regains  self-possession 
with  a  silent  prayer,  and  ascends  the  ivory  steps. 
The  Prince  of  the  Captivity  stands  face  to  face  with 
the  great  king  of  Israel.  But  Alroy  tries  in  vain  to 
attract  his  attention.  The  large  dark  eyes,  which 
shine  with  supernatural  radiance,  and  look  capable 
of  seeing  through  and  revealing  everything,  are 
blind  to  Alroy's  presence.  The  pilgrim,  pale  as 
death,  once  more  summons  up  all  his  courage  for 
the  sake  of  the  people  of  Israel.  With  deep  emo- 
tion he  stretches  out  his  arm,  and  with  gentle  firm- 


Travels  Abroad.  101 

ness,  without  meeting  with  any  resistance,  he  wrests 
the  sceptre  of  Solomon  from  his  great  ancestor's 
hand. 

Just  as  he  grasps  it  the  whole  scene  vanishes  from 
his  view,  and  at  the  same  moment  it  vanishes  from 
that  of  the  dreaming  Disraeli.  He  stood  again  in 
the  great  rocky  forecourt  of  the  little  vestibule  from 
which  the  steps  led  down  to  the  subterranean  space 
hewn  in  the  rock,  in  the  midst  of  the  miserable  re- 
alities which  had  called  up  these  glowing  visions. 

But  it  was  while  still  in  Palestine  that  he  began 
to  write  his  romance  of  the  singular  destinies  of 
Alroy.  He  became  for  Disraeli,  so  to  speak,  what 
the  Aladdin  of  his  day  was  for  Oelenschlager,  an 
Oriental  fabulous  or  mythic  personage,  in  whom 
he  could  conveniently  embody  some  of  his  boldest 
youthful  fancies,  and  his  greatest  idiosyncrasies. 
The  romance  "  Alroy  "  did  not  meet  with  success ; 
it  was  not  appreciated.  But  Alroy  has  never  alto- 
gether deserted  Disraeli ;  it  was  not  one  of  those 
ideas  of  which  a  poet  delivers  himself  by  carrying  it 
out.  Alroy  has  certainly  accompanied  him  through 
life,  and  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  the  passage  in 
which  he  seizes  the  sceptre  occurred  to  Lord  Bea- 
consfield,  when,  at  the  Congress  of  Berlin  (in  full 
accord  with  his  definition  of  England  as  an  Asiatic 
power),  he  snatched  the  British  supremacy  over 
Asiatic  Turkey  which  brought  those  countries,  over 


IO2  Lord  Beacons  field. 

which  David  Alroy  acquired  dominion,  under  the 
sovereignty  of  Benjamin  Disraeli. 

"  Alroy  "  is  a  work  with  great  faults.  The  style 
is,  in  many  parts,  an  intolerable  "  poetic  prose  ;  " 
especially  in  the  beginning  the  rhythm  is  affected. 
The  supernatural  apparatus  derived  from  the  Cab- 
bala and  the  Talmud  is  superfluous,  and  recalls 
Southey's  unfortunate  poem,  "  Thalaba."  The  nar- 
rative is  something  between  historical  romance  and 
legend ;  it  is  only  in  the  dialogue  that  you  see  Dis- 
raeli's extraordinary  superiority  to  Southey,  for  he 
has  the  true  Oriental  temperament,  which  supplies 
him  with  the  colouring  ;  but,  with  the  exception  of 
the  dialogue,  all  is  unreal,  and  a  great  deal  childish ; 
the  descriptions  of  Alroy's  combats  with  the  caliph's 
armies,  for  example,  remind  one  of  troops  of  leaden 
soldiers  moved  hither  and  thither.  The  chief  per- 
forms marvels  of  valor,  and  slays  the  sultan's  stand- 
ard-bearer, but,  unfortunately,  10,000  soldiers  are 
killed  ;  the  centre  is  broken  by  Midianitish  cavalry, 
whom  the  Caucassian  soldiers  put  to  flight  with  the 
loss  of  so  many  men,  etc.  The  romancer  can  nar- 
rate what  he  likes,  slay  at  his  pleasure,  but  you  find 
yourself  in  an  unreal  world,  and  amidst  child's  play, 
which  has  no  psychological  interest. 

The  psychological  interest  of  the  romance  con- 
sists almost  exclusively  in  the  development  of  Al- 
roy's character.  He  has  scarcely  come  off  victorious, 


Travels  Abroad.  103 

and  achieved  his  first  task  of  liberating  Israel,  than 
the  task  itself  seems  insignificant  to  him,  and  he 
seeks  for  some  greater  object,  for  no  one  has  been 
able  to  withstand  him,  and  Western  Asia  lies  at  his 
feet.  He  will  not  be  content  with  rebuilding  Solo- 
mon's Temple ;  his  ambition  is  not  to  be  so  easily 
satisfied  ;  he  wants  to  found  a  great  Asiatic  empire. 
"  The  sceptre  of  Solomon ! "  he  seems  to  hear  re- 
echo around  him,  but  those  who  thus  speak  begin 
to  seem  to  him  narrow  and  bigoted.  Is  not  the 
sceptre  of  Alroy  greater  than  Solomon's  ?  Shall  it 
be  recorded  in  his  annals  that  he  conquered  Asia, 
and  employed  his  power  in  rebuilding  a  Temple  ? 
Shall  the  ruler  of  Asia  sink  into  the  governor  of  an 
insignificant  province  like  Palestine,  the  virtuous 
patriarch  of  a  pastoral'  tribe  ?  No,  Bagdad  shall 
be  his  Zion,  victorious  Israel  must  and  shall  be  re- 
conciled to  vanquished  Ishmael,  and  they  must,  in 
spite  of  the  protests  of  Jewish  fanatics,  be  placed 
on  an  equal  footing.  "  Universal  empire  must  not 
be-  founded  on  sectarian  prejudices  and  exclusive 
rights."  * 

This  ambition  occasions  Alroy's  fall.  The  Israel- 
itish  religious  fanaticism,  which  raised  him  to  vic- 
tory, now  turns  against  him  with  embitterment,  at 
the  time  when  he  is  himself  forgetting  the  projects 

*  "Alroy,"  p.  141. 


IO4  Lord  Beacons  field. 

and  resolves  of  his  youth  by  the  side  of  a  Moham- 
medan Sultana  in  luxurious  Bagdad.  The  King  of 
Karasme  assassinates  him,  and  succeeds  to  his  em- 
pire and  his  bride. 

It  appears  as  if  Disraeli,  when  at  Jerusalem,  had 
for  a  moment  indulged  the  idea  that  his  powers 
were  equal  to  the  task  of  restoring  the  Holy  Land  to 
the  chosen  people,  but  had  come  to  the  conclusion, 
on  thinking  it  over,  that  his  ambition  for  statesman- 
ship on  a  grand  scale  could  never  be  realized  if 
allowed  to  spend  itself  in  a  contest  for  power  of 
extent  and  importance  so  limited.  He  perceived 
that,  even  if  he  were  permitted  to  arrange  every- 
thing according  to  his  will,  abilities  like  his  could 
never  find  a  fitting  arena,  but  on  the  soil  of  a  great 
Power  in  Europe.  Much  had  taken  place  there 
during  his  absence,  and  while  he  was  dreaming  in 
the  East  of  the  deeds  of  mythic  heroes. 

In  France,  the  July  revolution  had  overturned  a 
monarchy,  and  placed  a  wandering  Ulysses  on  the 
throne.  In  England,  a  revolution,  no  less  complete, 
was  projected,  which  was  to  be  carried  out  amidst 
general  agitation — that  revolution  in  the  British 
Constitution  called  the  Reform  Bill. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

LIFE  IN  LONDON. 

AT  that  time  there  were  still  salons  in  London, 
and  one  of  the  most  frequented  wa*s  that  of  the 
well-known  Lady  Blessington,  a  great  beauty,  who 
was  inseparable  from  her  son-in-law,  Count  d'Orsay. 
Her  house  had  a  certain  character  of  distinguished 
Bohemianism.  The  countess  had  long  been  sepa- 
rated from  her  second  husband  ;  Count  d'Orsay's 
wife  had  left  him  after  two  years  of  marriage,  and 
made  way  for  her  stepmother.  The  salon  was  only 
frequented  by  gentlemen  ;  but  all  the  men,  so  to 
speak,  assembled  there,  who  had  inherited  a  dis- 
tinguished name  or  made  a  name  for  themselves. 
In  1847,  H.  C.  Andersen  met  there  such  men  as 
Dickens,  Bulwer,  and  the  eldest  son  of  the  Duke  of 
Wellington.  When  Disraeli  returned  from  the  East 
in  1831,  Lady  Blessington's  house  was  one  of  those 
he  most  frequented. 

In  a  literary  aspect,  the  bias  of  the  house  was 

to  admire  Byron,  and  do  homage  to  his  memory. 

Lady  Blessington    and   Count   d'Orsay  had   made 

Byron's  acquaintance  in   Italy,  and   had  won   his 

5*  '05 


io6  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

regard  ;  Count  d'Orsay  especially,  as  shown  by  the 
poet's  notes,  made  a  very  favourable  impression  on 
him.  Lady  Blessington  had  for  some  time  taken 
upon  herself  to  defend  Byron's  memory  from  unjust 
attacks,  and  did  it  without  any  ideal  exaggeration. 
This  tendency  could  not  fail  to  suit  an  ardent  ad- 
mirer of  Byron  like  Disraeli.  In  Lady  Blessington's 
house,  as  it  appears,  he  made  the  acquaintance  of 
the  influential  statesman,  Lord  Lyndhurst,  after- 
wards Lord  Chancellor,  to  whom,  several  years 
later,  he  dedicated  his  romance,  "  Venetia,"  a  sort 
of  Byron  memorial. 

Politically,  Lady  Blessington's  salon  was  decided- 
ly opposed  to  the  Whigs.  Count  d'Orsay  was  a 
celebrated  caricaturist,  and  all  his  caricatures  were 
intended  to  make  the  Whig  policy  ridiculous.  In 
this  also,  the  tone  of  the  house  suited  Disraeli. 

On  the  one  hand,  he  was  sufficiently  aristocratic 
in  his  tendencies  to  feel  himself  attracted  by  the 
Tory  party,  and  on  the  other,  he  was  sufficiently 
revolutionary  to  sympathize  with  the  masses  and 
the  Radicals  ;  but  from  the  first,  the  Whigs  were 
repulsive  to  him,  and  in  nothing,  throughout  his  life, 
has  he  been  so  persistent  as  in  his  antagonism  to 
them.  In  "  Popanilla,"  when  describing  the  British 
Constitution,  under  the  form  of  an  image  of  gold, 
silver,  and  iron,  he  remarks  that  the  race  of  iron, 
namely,  the  populace,  if  they  cannot  exactly  have 


Life  in  London.  107 

their  own  way,  would  far  rather  vote  for  gold  than 
silver,  if  it  were  a  question  of  repairing  the  statue. 
So  early  as  this  is  the  alliance  indicated  between 
the  Tories  and  the  masses. 

Lady  Blessington  was,  besides,  an  intimate  friend 
of  the  Bonaparte  family ;  fifteen  years  later,  Hans 
Andersen  found  a  portrait  of  Napoleon  I.  in  every 
one  of  her  rooms.  At  that  time,  she  frequently  saw 
at  her  house  the  exiled  members  of  the  family,  and 
thus  Disraeli  was  brought,  by  a  curious  chance,  at 
the  beginning  of  his  career,  into  contact  with  two 
other  ambitious  men  who  were  destined  to  play  a 
great  part  in  politics,  Louis  Napoleon  and  Count  de 
Morny.  The  latter  was  at  that  time  far  from  hav- 
ing acquired  the  brilliant  polish  which  made  him 
the  personification  of  the  Second  Empire,  and  the 
model  after  which  Feuillet  drew  his  Monsieur  de 
Camors,  and  Daudet  his  Duke  of  Mora.  He  wrote 
little  French  love  songs,  which  he  sang  to  his  gui- 
tar. It  is  interesting  to  think  of  Napoleon  III.  and 
Lord  Beaconsfield  meeting,  as  young  men,  in  the 
same  room.  What  similarity,  yet  what  a  contrast ! 
Both,  when  they  were  nobodies,  dreamers  of  wild 
dreams  of  grasping  the  highest  power ;  both  were  of 
imperialist-democratic  tendencies ;  both  had  fantas- 
tic notions  that  they  were  the  chosen  scions  of  a 
chosen  race.  But  at  the  same  time,  what  a  contrast 
between  the  son  of  Hortense,  born,  as  Sainte-Beuve 


io8  Lord  Bcaconsfield. 

satirically  remarks,  "near  the  purple,"  growing  up 
in  the  shadow  of  Caesar,  and  never  giving  up  the 
idea  of  returning  to  the  splendours  in  which  his 
childhood  had  been  passed ;  and  the  plebeian  son 
of  Isaac  d'Israeli,  by  whose  cradle  it  was  never  sung 
that  he  would  one  day  be  the  acknowledged  leader 
of  the  proudest  aristocracy  in  the  world !  And, 
finally,  what  a  contrast  be'tween  the  premature  fail- 
ure of  the  one  and  the  indomitable  energy  of  the 
other ! 

It  is  scarcely  to  be  doubted  that,  on  his  return 
from  his  tour,  Disraeli  was  to  all  appearance  as  much 
occupied  with  society  as  he  was  with  the  studies  by 
which  he  was  preparing  himself  for  his  political  ca- 
reer. The  idea  never  seems  to  have  occurred  to  him 
of  choosing  a  calling ;  he  scarcely  ever  doubted  that 
he  would  possess  a  mine  of  gold  in  the  future.  A 
young  man  with  so  firm  a  belief  in  his  star,  would 
have  little  scruple  about  anticipating  some  of  the 
money  which  its  ascendancy  was  to  bring  him  ;  and 
Disraeli,  it  may  be  conjectured,  soon  found  himself 
compelled  to  incur  debts.  Anyhow,  it  is  indisputa- 
ble that  from  the  moment  when  he  entered  on  a 
political  career,  he  had  to  contend  with  great  pecu- 
niary difficulties.  Election  expenses  were  enormous, 
the  bribery  necessary  engulfed  fabulous  sums,  and 
so  far  as  Disraeli  was  concerned,  all  these  expenses 
were  at  first  thrown  away ;  whenever  he  offered  him- 


Life  in  London.  109 

self  as  a  candidate,  he  was  defeated.  When  he  at 
length  succeeded  in  getting  returned  for  Maidstone, 
he  did  not  stand  next  time  for  the  same  place,  prob- 
ably because  he  was  unable  to  meet  the  demands 
of  the  avaricious  constituency.  He  offered  himself 
for  Shrewsbury,  and  a  statement,  published  on  this 
occasion  by  his  opponents,  shows  that  during  the 
years  from  1838  to  1841  alone,  there  were  fifteen 
different  claims  made  upon  him  for  debts,  for  sums 
varying  from  £20  to  .£700,  and  amounting  alU>- 
gether  to  ,£20,000. 

Gold  had  a  great  attraction  for  Disraeli  from  his 
earliest  youth.  From  different  points  of  view,  it 
might  be  said  that  he  had  the  greatest  respect  or 
the  greatest  contempt  for  it.  He  despised  it,  for  he 
always  regarded  it  as  a  thing  of  no  importance  ex- 
cept in  heaps  or  by  the  ton — as  something  that  it 
behoved  him  to  have,  and  which  he  must  have,  as 
soon  as  occasion  should  arise  for  him  to  scatter  it 
freely.  And  he  cherishes  a  repulsive  respect  for 
money,  because  he  has  such  a  taste  for  wealth  and 
luxury  that  life  does  not  appear  to  him  worth  hav- 
ing without  it ;  all  his  works,  without  exception,  deal 
with  very  rich  men  and  women  ;  millions  and  such 
nice  round  sums  roll  from  side  to  side  through  his 
novels;  the  few  poor  people  who  appear  in  them 
end  inevitably,  if  they  enjoy  the  author's  sympathy, 
by  gaining  or  inheriting  a  fabulous  fortune.  Balzac 


I  io  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

is  a  novelist  who  is  considered  on  paper  to  be  fond 
of  rolling  in  riches ;  but  in  comparison  with  Disrae- 
li's dukes  and  lords,  his  counts  and  bankers  are  in- 
significant people,  millionaires  with  francs  instead  of 
pounds  sterling;  and  compared  with  the  London 
described  by  Disraeli,  Balzac's  Paris  is  a  mere  deco- 
rated workhouse.  His  descriptions  ripple  with  gold 
like  the  waves  of  a  gold  river ;  there  is  a  sound  like 
the  rattle  of  gold  pieces  when  you  put  his  books  to 
your  ear. 

He  must  from  time  to  time  in  his  early  youth 
have  keenly  felt  the  want  of  the  treasure  he  so  much 
coveted,  and  have  felt  longings  for  the  precious 
metal.  Did  he  ever  play  ?  Both  as  a  novelist  and 
a  man  of  the  world  he  wanted  to  be  acquainted  with 
everything,  to  have  experienced  all  sorts  of  mental 
excitement  at  least  for  once. 

Even  in"  Vivian  Grey"  there  is  a  gambling  scene, 
which  betrays  early  experience ;  but  of  far  more  im- 
portance is  the  great  scene,  portrayed  by  a  master 
hand,  in  "  The  Young  Duke."  It  is  so  heartfelt,  so 
evidently  the  result  of  experience,  so  thoroughly 
true,  that  Disraeli  has  never  written  anything  show- 
ing equal  insight  and  commanding  power.  All  the 
stages  of  agitation  through  which  the  hero  passes  in 
the  two  days  and  nights  during  which  he  plays,  are 
described  with  so  much  psychological  delicacy,  that 
they  are  no  less  interesting  than  the  vicissitudes  of 


Life  in  London.  in 

a  love  story  or  of  a  battle.  You  feel  how  at  first 
gambling  is  a  pleasure,  raises  the  spirits,  sharpens 
the  appetite,  and  how  by  degrees  it  becomes  a  pas- 
sion which  deadens  every  sense  except  the  eye  for 
the  cards,  so  pregnant  with  destiny,  which  are 
brought  in  fresh  every  half-hour,  while  the  old  ones 
are  thrown  on  the  floor.  I  quote  a  passage : — 

"Another  morning  came,  and  there  they  sat, 
ankle-deep  in  cards.  No  attempt  at  breakfast  now, 
no  affectation  of  making  a  toilet  or  airing  the  room. 
The  atmosphere  was  hot,  to  be  sure,  but  it  well  be- 
came such  a  hell.  There  they  sat,  in  total,  in  posi- 
tive forgetfulness  of  everything  but  the  hot  game 
they  were  hunting  down.  There  was  not  a  man  in 
the  room,  except  Tom  Cogit,  who  could  have  told 
you  the  name  of  the  town  in  which  they  were  living. 
There  they  sat,  almost  breathless,  watching  every 
turn,  with  the  fell  look  in  their  cannibal  eyes,  which 
showed  their  total  inability  to  sympathize  with  their 
fellow-beings.  All  forms  of  society  had  been  long 
forgotten.  There  was  no  snuff-box  handed  about 
now,  for  courtesy,  admiration,  or  a  pinch  ;  no  affec- 
tation of  occasionally  making  a  remark-  upon  any 
other  topic  but  the  all-engrossing  one.  Lord  Castle- 
fort  rested  with  his  arms  on  the  table;  a  false  tooth 
had  got  unhinged.  His  Lordship,  who,  at  any  other 
time,  would  have  been  most  annoyed,  coolly  put  it  in 
his  pocket.  His  cheeks  had  fallen,  and  he  looked 


112  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

twenty  years  older.  Lord  Dice  had  torn  off  his 
cravat,  and  his  hair  hung  down  over  his  callous, 
bloodless  cheeks,  straight  as  silk.  Temple  Grace 
looked  as  if  he  were  blighted  by  lightning ;  and  his 
deep  blue  eyes  gleamed  like  a  hyaena's."  * 

During  the  forty-eight  hours  during  which  he  is 
at  the  gaming-table,  the  young  duke  loses  over 
.£100,000;  but  his  fortune  can  bear  it,  and  the  loss 
only  serves  to  cure  him  of  his  passion  for  play. 
Disraeli  maintains  that  not  only  is  this  passion  one 
of  those  most  easily  overcome,  but  that  play  is  a 
habit  which  frequently  gives  young  men  knowledge 
of  themselves,  because,  when  on  the  brink  of  ruin, 
their  better  self  awakens  and  asserts  itself.  This  last 
opinion  would  not  seem  to  have  been  drawn  from 
the"  experience  of  others. 

On  reading  the  pathetic  words  in  which,  at  the 
beginning  of  "  Henrietta  Temple,"  he  warns  young 
men  never  to  accept  an  offered  loan  without  sure 
prospect  of  being  able  to  repay  it,  one  imagines  that 
he  must  sometimes  have  felt  it  a  real  misfortune  to 
be  in  debt.  "  If  youth  but  knew  the  fatal  misery 
that  they  are  entailing  on  themselves  the  moment 
they  accept  a  pecuniary  credit  to  which  they  are  not 
entitled,  how  they  would  start  in  their  career!  how 
pale  they  would  turn !  how  they  would  tremble,  and 

*  "  The  Young  Duke,"  p.  244. 


Life  in  London.  113 

clasp  their  hands  in  agony  at  the  precipice  on  which 
they  were  disporting !  "  * 

This  exclamation  is  not  the  less  sincere  because, 
singularly  enough,  he  dates  the  year  before  the  one 
in  which  actions  for  debt,  mentioned  above,  began 
to  shower  down  upon  him.  But  although  he  really 
meant  it,  my  idea  is  that  it  was  rather  a  momentary 
outbreak,  and  a  warning  for  less  hardened  and  more 
impressible  minds,  than  Disraeli's  customary  way  of 
regarding  debt.  In  his  novels  there  are  many  young 
men  in  debt,  none  of  whom  do  any  work — their 
social  status  is  too  high  for  that — but  who,  in  spite 
of  the  various  difficulties  in  which  their  creditors  in- 
volve them,  all  escape  from  them  with  whole  skins, 
rich  and  prosperous.  Captain  Armine,  the  hero  in 
"  Henrietta  Temple,"  is  undoubtedly  depressed  by 
the  pecuniary  troubles  which  he  has  brought  upon 
himself  by  his  extravagant  bachelor  life;  he  has  to 
pay  humiliating  visits  to  hard-hearted  money-lend- 
ers, and  to  accept  services  from  others ;  he  even 
makes  a  short  acquaintance  with  the  debtors'  prison, 
described  with  Dickens-like  humour;  but  his  mar- 
riage with  Miss  Temple  brings  him  compensation  in 
the  wealth  of  Golconda.  Egremont,  the  hero  in 
"Sybil,"  is  unable  to  meet  the  great  expenses  of  his 
election,  and,  like  Captain  Armine,  keeps  concealed 

*  "  Henrietta  Temple,"  p.  62. 


1 14  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

for  a  time  in  a  small  country  house,  but  when  his 
beloved  Sybil  comes  to  glory  and  honour  as  heiress 
of  princely  estates,  his  embarrassments  are  soon  for- 
gotten. But  I  do  not  imagine  that  it  is  in  the  senti- 
ments of  these  gentlemen  of  the  fair-skinned  race 
that  we  find  Disraeli's  own  reflected,  but  in  Fakre- 
deen's,  the  young  emir,  described  in  so  masterly  a 
style  in  "  Tancred,"  who  is  always  over  head  and 
ears  in  debt,  but  never  feels  the  least  inconvenience 
from  it — on  the  contrary,  he  pays  visits  in  the  ut- 
most good  humour  to  his  creditors  in  the  towns 
along  the  Syrian  coast. 

"  Fakredeen  was  fond  of  his  debts  ;  they  were  the 
source,  indeed,  of  his  only  real  excitement,  and  he 
was  grateful  to  them  for  their  stirring  powers.  The 
usurers  of  Syria  are  as  adroit  and  callous  as  those  of 
all  other  countries,  and  possess,  no  doubt,  all  those 
repulsive  qualities  which  are  the  consequence  of  an 
habitual  control  over  every  generous  emotion.  But, 
instead  of  viewing  them  with  feelings  of  vengeance 
or  abhorrence,  Fakredeen  studied  them  unceasingly 
with  a  fine  and  profound  investigation,  and  found  in 
their  society  a  deep  psychological  interest.  His 
own  rapacious  soul  delighted  to  struggle  with  their 
rapine,  and  it  charmed  him  to  baffle  with  his  artifice 
their  fraudulent  dexterity.  He  loved  to  enter  their 
houses  with  his  glittering  eye,  and  face  radiant  with 
innocence,  and,  when  things  were  at  the  very  worst, 


Life  in  London.  115 

and  they  remorseless,  to  succeed  in  circumventing 
them?  "* 

Does  not  the  reader  see  Disraeli's  own  character 
in  this  description  ?  Just  so  one  can  picture  him 
taming  and  managing  his  creditors  more  like  a  tiger 
himself  than  the  tigers  around  him.  "  Dear  com- 
panions of  my  life,  that  never  desert  me  ! "  Fakre- 
deen  exclaims  of  his  debts.  "  All  my  knowledge  of 
human  nature  is  owing  to  them. "  f 

Minus  the  jest  and  exaggeration,  I  do  not  doubt 
that  Disraeli  has  felt  the  same,  has  found  pleasure 
in  feeling  his  capacities  develop,  and  in  measuring 
his  craftiness  with  that  of  others,  when  it  was  neces- 
sary to  find  expedients,  to  practise  patience  and  di- 
plomacy until — like  his  heroes — a  wealthy  marriage 
with  a  beloved  lady  helped  him  over  these  fugitive 
studies  in  the  vestibule  of  political  intrigue. 

It  is  not  alone  in  Fakredeen's  relations  to  his 
debts  that  I  find  a  likeness  to  the  character  of 
young  Disraeli.  There  is  in  the  emir's  political 
character  the  most  curious  mixture  of  lofty  aims 
and  ambiguous  conduct,  of  faith  in  an  idea,  and  faith 
in  intrigue ;  and  this  is  characteristic  of  Disraeli 
himself,  when  he  is  about  to  throw  himself  into  ac- 
tive political  life.  Fakredeen  is  engrossed  with  the 
idea  of  the  reorganization  of  Western  Asia.  Some- 

*  "  Tancred,"  p.  270.  flbid.  p.  271. 


n6  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

times  he  is  animated  by  Disraeli-like  confidence  in 
the  power  of  ideas,  or  in  formulae  which  appeal  to 
the  imagination,  but  the  next  moment  he  looks 
about  him  for  petty  means  and  artifices;  now  he 
fully  believes  in  a  policy  of  magic  and  spells,  such  as 
that  "  a  man  might  climb  Mount  Carmel  and  utter 
three  words  which  would  bring  the  Arabs  again  to 
Grenada,  and  perhaps  further."  *  Then,  again,  the 
idea  appears  too  improbable  that  any  great  religious 
truth  can  again  proceed  from  the  plains  of  Meso- 
potamia, and  he  thinks  of  nothing  but  by  what  in- 
trigues he  can  obtain  a  large  loan,  or  arms  without 
paying  for  them.  In  a  way  somewhat  analogous  to 
this,  Disraeli,  on  his  return  to  England,  was  divided 
between  the  desire  to  gain  political  influence,  by 
proclaiming  some  great  simple  truth,  that  might  be 
of  service  to  the  country,  and  the  desire  not  to  frus- 
trate his  aims  by  any  ill-judged  or  irrevocable  parti- 
sanship. He  could  not  resist  the  possibility  of 
advancing  himself  by  intrigues.  He  has  indirectly 
acknowledged  this  when  he  says,  in  a  passage  in 
"  Coningsby :  "  "  The  two  years  that  followed  the 
reform  of  the  House  of  Commons  are  full  of  instruc- 
tion, on  which  a  young  man  would  do  well  to  pon- 
der. It  is  hardly  possible  that  he  could  rise  from 
the  study  of  these  annals  without  a  confirmed  dis- 

*  "  Tancred,"  p.  303. 


Life  in  London.  nj 

gust  for  political  intrigue ;  a  dazzling  practice,  apt 
at  first  to  fascinate  youth,  for  it  appeals  at  once  to 
our  invention  and  our  courage,  but  one  which  really 
should  only  be  the  resource  of  the  second-rate ;  great 
minds  must  trust  to  great  truths  and  great  talents 
for  their  rise,  and  nothing  else."  * 

It  did  not  require  this  veiled  confession  to  tell  us 
how  great  was  the  charm  for  Disraeli  in  those  days 
of  the  game  of  politics  and  its  labyrinthine  and 
hidden  paths.  His  first  political  campaigns  reveal 
it  plainly  enough. 

*  "  Coningsby,"  p,  66. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

FIRST  POLITICAL  CAMPAIGNS. 

WE  have  now  reached  the  year  1832,  the  great 
year  of  the  Reform  Bill. 

The  opposition  at  first  raised  by  William  IV.  and 
his  Tory  Ministry  to  Parliamentary  Reform  was,  as 
is  well  known,  overcome  in  1830,  the  first  year  of 
his  reign,  and  a  Whig  administration  was  formed  by 
Earl  Grey.  The  Bill  brought  into  the  House  of 
Commons  by  Lord  John  Russell,  as  a  member  of 
this  administration,  in  the  following  year,  by  which 
a  number  of  rotten  boroughs  were  disfranchised,  and 
representation  given  to  twenty-seven  large  towns, 
was  thrown  out  and  Parliament  was  dissolved.  The 
new  elections  gave  the  Reform  party  the  majority 
in  the  Lower  House,  but  the  Bill  was  again  thrown 
out  in  the  Upper.  This  time,  however,  its  rejection 
raised  such  a  storm  in  the  country  that,  when  it 
was  brought  in  again,  the  Lords  gave  up  their  oppo- 
sition from  the  dread  of  seeing  their  influence  anni- 
hilated by  the  creation  of  a  number  of  new  peers, 
and  finally,  on  the  4th  of  June,  1832,  the  Reform 
Bill  was  passed,  by  which  the  number  of  British 

iiS 


First  Political  Campaigns.  119 

electors  was  raised  from  a  practically  small  number 
to  300,000. 

Only  a  few  days  after  this  great  event  in  Eng- 
land's modern  political  history,  and  before  the  first 
echoes  of  applause  had  died  away — on  the  I3th  of 
June,  1832 — Benjamin  Disraeli  made  his  entry  into 
the  little  town  of  High  Wycombe,  for  which,  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life,  he  had  offered  himself  as  a  can- 
didate. True  to  his  principle  of  attracting  attention 
by  his  appearance,  he  drove,  elegantly  dressed,  in 
an  open  carriage  drawn  by  four  horses,  accompanied 
by  a  band  of  music  and  a  troop  of  admirers  with 
banners.  He  bowed  to  the  spectators  who  thronged 
the  windows,  and  when  he  reached  the  Red  Lion, 
sprang  from  the  carriage  on  to  the.  porch,  and  made 
an  animated  speech  an  hour  long,  in  which  he 
lashed  the  Whigs  with  biting  sarcasm — not  that  the 
Reform  Bill  was  too  liberal  for  him— it  did  not  go 
far  enough  ;  he  came  out  as  a  full-blown  Radical. 

In  the  works  which  he  had  published  up  to  this 
time,  there  was  no  definite  political  creed,  but  they 
contained  traces  throughout  of  what  may  be  called 
the  Liberalism  of  a  good  fellow.  The  place  for 
which  he  stood  had  hitherto  been  represented  by 
Liberals  with  a  dash  of  Radicalism ;  being  a  very 
small  borough,  it  was  dependent  on  the  Tory  land- 
owners around ;  but  the  Conservatives  were  in  a 
decided  minority,  and  it  might  be  safely  reckoned 


I2O  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

that,  as  they  hated  the  Reform  administration,  they 
would  sooner  vote  for  a  Radical,  who  hated  it  also, 
than  for  a  Liberal  of  the  Ministerial  stamp.  Their 
organs  also  supported  Disraeli.  Politically  unknown 
as  he  was,  he  had  tried  to  add  to  his  dignity  by  pro- 
curing letters  of  recommendation  from  the  Radical 
Parliamentary  leaders ;  and  really  had  two  good 
letters  from  Joseph  Hume  and  the  famous  Daniel 
O'Connell.  He  had  them  printed  and  posted  up  in 
High  Wycombe.  To  his  great  mortification,  Hume 
withdrew  his  letter  at  the  last  moment,  apparently 
from  distrust  of  Disraeli's  political  honesty,  but  he 
still  had  O'Connell's  powerful  name  as  a  guarantee. 
In  his  first  election  speech  he  came  forward  as  a 
democratic  plebeian.  The  Reform  Bill  was,  in  his 
view,  not  a  definite  step,  only  a  means  to  a  greater 
end.  He  hoped  that  reforms  of  every  kind  would 
arise  out  of  it;  but,  above  all  other  progress,  he 
placed  the  improvement  of  the  condition  of  the 
poor;  it  was  his  principle  that  the  happiness  of  the 
many  was  to  be  preferred  to  that  of  the  few.  He 
was  the  man  of  the  people,  for  he  had  himself 
sprung  from  the  people,  and  had  not  a  drop  of  the 
Plantagenets  or  Tudors  in  his  veins.  He  was  glad 
to  see  the  Tories  for  once  on  the  side  of  the  people ; 
the  Tories  must  now  rely  on  the  people  for  support ; 
the  people  did  not  need  to  be  supported  by  them. 
He  spoke  vehemently  against  long  Parliaments,  then 


First  Political  Campaigns.  12 1 

a  standing  topic  with  the  Radicals,  who  desired 
triennial  elections. 

Whether  it  was  that  Disraeli  was  regarded  as  a 
dangerous  foe  in  Ministerial  circles,  or  whether  it 
was  mere  chance,  the  Prime  Minister  sent  his  own 
son,  Colonel  Grey,  to  High  Wycombe,  accompanied 
by  two  high  officers  of  State,  and  the  consequence 
was  that  Disraeli  suffered  his  first  defeat.  The 
result  was  scarcely  made  known  when  he  again 
ascended  the  hustings  and  made  a  speech,  conclud- 
ing with  the  following  words :  "  The  'Whigs  have 
stood  in  my  way,  and  they  shall  repent  it " — the 
earliest  public  expression  of  the  assurance  with 
which  Disraeli  has  always  contrived  at  the  moment 
of  defeat  to  regain  the  mastery  over  his  fate  by  a 
sarcasm,  a  threat,  or  a  prophecy. 

The  dissolution  of  Parliament  during  the  same 
year  occasioned  Disraeli  to  offer  himself  the  second 
time  to  the  electors  of  High  Wycombe.  In  a  letter  he 
addressed  to  them  he  speaks  with  great  bitterness 
of  the  aristocratic  Whig  Ministry ;  it  had  sought  to 
gain  popularity  by  the  Reform  Bill,  but  it  had  stood 
in  the  way  of  the  rights  of  the  people  by  not  keeping 
its  word  about  the  ballot  and  triennial  Parliaments. 
But  his  Radicalism,  even  here,  is  mixed  with  Tory 
sympathies ;  he  appeals  to  the  fact  that  Lord 
Bolingbrokc,  "the  cleverest  statesman  that  ever 
lived,"  was  in  favour  of  triennial  Parliaments,  and 
6 


122  Lord  Bcaconsfield. 

he  defines  his  own  political  standpoint  by  the  reason- 
able but  somewhat  trite  saying  that  he  was  "  a  Con- 
servative to  preserve  all  that  is  good  in  our  Consti- 
tution, a  Radical  to  remove  all  that  is  bad."  *  This 
cautious  position  gave  him  the  name,  among  his 
opponents,  of  a  Tory-Radical  and  Radical-Tory,  and 
he  was  again  defeated  at  the  election. 

In  order  to  understand  Disraeli's  first  appearance 
as  a  politician,  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the 
actual  difference  between  the  two  contending  aris- 
tocratic parties  was  very  ill  defined,  and  that,  in 
spite  of  their  efforts  at  reform,  the  Whigs  had  really 
but  little  claim  to  be  considered  a  Liberal  party  on 
principle.  Various  circumstances  had  for  a  long 
period  caused  power  to  be  divided  between  two  Par- 
liamentary parties,  who  agreed  on  one  point  only, 
that  they  must  be  in  power  by  turns.  Among  these 
circumstances  were  the  combination  of  three  estates 
in  dne  empire,  religious  differences,  the  victory  of 
the  nobility  over  the  Crown,  and  the  peculiarity  of 
the  English  aristocracy  that  it  is  constantly  receiving 
reinforcements  from  the  people,  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  its  younger  sons  are  surrendered  to  the  people 
again.  Besides  this,  the  opposition  between  them 
had  taken  various  forms :  sometimes  it  was  Popery 
against  Protestantism  ;  then  Protestantism  against 

*  O'Connor's  "  Life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,"  p.  61. 


First  Political  Campaigns.  123 

religious  liberty;  now  popular  monarchy  against 
oligarchy ;  now  warlike  tendencies  against  love  of 
peace ;  national  interests  against  cosmopolitanism ; 
the  policy  of  letting  things  alone  against  reform, 
etc.  At  one  time  it  was  said,  "  The  Tories  believe 
in  the  divine  right  of  kings,  the  Whigs  in  the  divine 
right  of  the  nobility ;  "  later  on,  that  the  Whigs  were 
becoming  Liberal  in  order  to  regain  their  lost  power, 
the  Tories  in  order  to  keep  the  power  they  had 
gained.  It  was  after  the  year  1830  that  the  Tories 
first  began  to  call  themselves  "  Conservatives."  The 
word,  as  the  designation  of  a  political  party,  is  of 
modern  date,  and  seems  to  have  been  first  used  in 
State  papers  which  came  from  Russia,  and  preached 
"  the  solidaritc  of  Conservative  interests."  It  is  not 
very  happily  chosen.  To  the  question,  Conservative 
or  not  Conservative  ?  there  is  really  no  rational  an- 
swer but  that  of  Disraeli's  above  quoted ;  for  there 
is  no  reasonable  man  who  would  not  wish  to  see 
anything  altered  in  a  Constitution,  nor  any  one  so 
ultra-revolutionary  that  he  would  not  desire  per- 
manent institutions  as  the  aim  and  end  of  change. 

It  was  at  the  time  of  the  introduction  of  the 
terms  "  Conservative  "  and  "  Liberal,"  that  the  word 
"Radical"  also  acquired  political  significance.  It  is 
said  to  have  been  introduced  for  the  first  time  by 
Pitt,  in  1798,  when  he  reproached  the  Opposition 
with  desiring  a  "  Radical "  reform  of  Parliament.  A 


124  Lord  Bcaconsficld. 

Radical  is  one  who,  having  adopted  a  principle  as 
sound,  will  not  agree  to  any  stipulations  respecting 
it.  Radicalism  therefore,  could  readily  unite  with 
the  old  party  names  in  England.  There  were  soon 
Radical-Tories  as  well  as  Radical-Whigs,  that  is, 
politicians  of  both  parties  who  would  agree  to  no 
compromise.  Besides  these,  there  was,  of  course,  a 
Radical-Democratic  party,  who  wished  to  see  Eng- 
lish institutions  remodelled  after  the  American  pat- 
tern, but  who  at  that  period  generally  contented 
themselves  with  such  demands  as  secret  voting  and 
extension  of  the  franchise,  demands  now  nearly  all 
conceded.*  A  sense  of  justice,  no  less  than  an  aver- 
sion to  the  middle  classes,  attracted  Disraeli  to  the 
Radical  group,  whose  prospects,  during  the  demo- 
cratic tendency  by  which  the  nation  was  affected, 
did  not  seem  unpromising.  O'Connell,  especially, 
was  a  power  which  every  party  had  to  take  into 
account. 

When,  in  1833,  a  vacancy  seemed  likely  to  occur 
in  Marylebone,  Disraeli  offered  himself  as  a  candi- 
date for  the  third  time.  He  sent  a  Radical  address 
to  the  constituency,  in  which  he  called  himself  a 
scion  of  a  family  "  untainted  by  the  receipt  of  pub- 
lic money,"  and  in  which  he — the  future  patron  of 

*  Respecting  the  names  and  position  of  parties  in  England  about 
the  time  of  the  Reform  Bill,  see  Lothar  Bucher's  instructive  work, 
"  Der  Parlamentarismus,  vvie  er  est." 


First  Political  Campaigns.  125 

the  landed  interest — expressed  a  wish  to  see  the 
whole  system  of  taxation  revised  by  a  Parliamen- 
tary Committee,  with  a  view  to  relieve  manufactures 
of  the  burdens  which  the  land  was  better  fitted  to 
bear.  As  the  vacancy  did  not  occur,  Disraeli,  in 
his  eagerness  to  attract  public  attention,  brought 
out  his  oft-discussed  pamphlet,  "  What  is  He  ? " 
which  is  generally,  though  incorrectly,  said  to  have 
been  his  first  step  in  the  career  of  an  author.  It 
contained  what  he  intended  to  have  said  in  Maryle- 
bone,  and  appeared  in  1833  ;  for  a  long  time  it  had 
disappeared  from  the  world,  and  only  now  exists  in 
an  extract  from  a  newspaper,  and  in  a  recently  ac- 
quired copy  in  the  British  Museum. 

The  title  was  singular  enough.  It  is  explained  by 
the  motto  on  the  title-page,  which  apologizes  for 
the  notion  of  making  your  ddbut  in  politics  by  a  book 
about  yourself  in  the  following  way,  certainly  rather 

dragged  in  by  the  hair :  "  I  hear  that  is  again 

in  the  field.  I  do  not  know  whether  we  ought 
to  wish  him  success.  What  is  he?  —  (Extract 
from  a  letter  to  an  eminent  personage)."  The 
"  eminent  personage  "  was  understood  to  be  Lord 
Grey.* 

The  pamphlet  contains  Disraeli's  confession  of 
faith  as  a  Radical.  He  says  that  before  the  passing 

*  O'Connor's  "  Life  of  Lord  Beaconsficld,"  p.  67. 


126  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

of  the  Reform  Bill,  the  Government  had,  at  any 
rate,  the  advantage  of  being  based  on  a  definite  aris- 
tocratic principle ;  but  now  it  was  based  on  none  at 
all.  A  Tory  and  a  Radical  he  could  understand  ;  a 
Whig — a  democratic  aristocrat — he  could  not  under- 
stand. The  aristocratic  principle  had  been  over- 
turned for  the  present,  not  by  the  Reform  Bill,  but 
by  the  means  by  which  it  was  carried ;  if  the  Tories, 
'indeed,  despaired  of  restoring  it,  and  if  their  asser- 
tion that  the  State  cannot  be  governed  by  the  exist- 
ing machinery  be  sincere,  it  was  their  duty  to 
coalesce  with  the  Radicals,  and  to  let  these  two  po- 
litical nicknames  be  merged  into  the  common,  in- 
telligible, and  only  dignified  name  of  the  national 
party.  In  conclusion,  he  must  observe  that  there 
was  yet  a  reason  which  induced  him  to  believe  that 
the  restoration  of  the  aristocratic  principle  in  the 
Government  of  the  country  was  utterly  impractica- 
ble. For  Europe  was  in  a  transition  period  from  the 
feudal  to  the  federative  principle  of  government. 
The  revolt  of  the  Netherlands  against  Spain  had 
hastened,  if  it  had  not  provoked,  the  revolution  in 
England  under  Charles  I. ;  the  revolt  of  the  Ameri- 
can colonies  had  hastened,  if  not  provoked,  the 
French  Revolution ;  the  movement  could  not  be 
checked.  The  question  which  now  arises,  is  there- 
fore: Which  is  the  easiest  and  most  natural  method 
"  by  which  the  democratic  principle  may  be  made 


First  Political  Campaigns.  127 

predominant?"*  and  the  answer  would  be  this: 
"  Immediate  abolition  of  septennial  Parliaments,  in- 
troduction of  secret  voting,  and  immediate  dissolu- 
tion of  Parliament."  The  condition  of  England  was 
a  melancholy  one ;  it  would  sometimes  appear  that 
the  loss  of  our  great  colonial  empire  must  be  the 
consequence  of  our  prolonged  domestic  discussions. 
Meanwhile  we  must  place  our  hope  and  confidence 
in  the  national  character,  and  in  great  men :  "  Let 
us  not,"  he  concludes,  with  his  usual  self-esteem, 
"forget  also  an  influence,  too  much  underrated  in 
this  age  of  bustling  mediocrity — the  influence  of 
individual  character.  Great  spirits  may  yet  arise 
to  guide  the  groaning  helm  through  the  world  of 
troubled  waters ;  spirits  whose  proud  destiny  it  may 
still  be  at  the  same  time  to  maintain  the  glory  of 
the  empire,  and  to  secure  the ,  happiness  of  the 
people! " f 

The  reader  will  recognize  the  doctrine  of  the  tran- 
sition from  the  feudal  to  the  federative"  principle 
in  "  The  Revolutionary  Epic;"  he,  perhaps,  notes 
with  surprise  that  Disraeli,  the  leader  of  the  Tory 
aristocracy,  began  his  career  by  declaring  the  period 
of  government  on  the  aristocratic  principle  to  be  at 
an  end  ;  but  in  the  uneasy  glance  cast  upon  Eng- 

*  O'Connor's  "  Life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,"  p.  68. 
f  "  Benjamin  Disraeli,  Earl  of  Beaconsfield  :  A  Biography,"  vol.  i. 
p.  102. 


128  Lord  Bcaconsficld. 

land's  colonies,  in  his  hatred  of  the  Whigs,  and  the 
doctrine  of  the  significance  of  great  spirits,  he  will 
recognize  fixed  characteristics  of  the  man. 

The  political  character  of  the  following  year  was 
marked  by  the  circumstance  that  the  distress  which 
had  long  prevailed  among  the  farmers,  reached  such 
a  height  that  the  agriculturists  appealed  to  the 
Government  to  take  some  measures  for  their  relief, 
although  they  were  beginning  to  despair  of  getting 
anything  from  the  lethargic  Whig  Government. 
The  Reform  Ministry,  once  so  popular,  had  become 
inert ;  its  members  had  one  by  one  retired  ;  even 
the  Prime  Minister,  Lord  Grey,  had  been  succeeded 
by  Lord  Melbourne,  and  he,  too,  had  become  an 
object  of  contempt.  The  Tory  star  was  in  the  as- 
cendant ;  their  leader,  Sir  Robert  Peel,  was  daily 
becoming  more  influential,  and  they  took  no  further 
account  of  the  Radicals,  whom  they  no  longer 
wanted.  Meanwhile  the  landed  interest  was  with- 
out a  leader,  or,  to  speak  more  correctly,  they  had 
only  the  Marquis  of  Chandos  for  their  leader,  a  man 
destitute  of  ability.  The  result  of  this  state  of 
things  was,  as  far  as  it  concerned  Disraeli,  that  he 
turned  sharp  round.  He  dropped  his  Radical  de- 
mands, made  approaches  to  the  land  party,  drew 
up  a  petition  to  Parliament  for  them,  and,  finally, 
when  the  Whigs  went  out  at  the  end  of  the  year,  he 
made  a  great  advance  towards  the  Tory  side.  In 


First  Political  Campaigns.  129 

December,  1835,  he  took  part  in  a  meeting  at  Ayles- 
bury,  where  he,  who  had  said  not  long  before  that 
the  manufacturing  interest  was  thrust  aside  in  favour 
of  land,  said  that  "  He  had  long  been  of  opinion 
that  a  conspiracy  existed  among  certain  orders  in 
the  country  against  what  was  styled  the  agricultural 
interest."  * 

He  spoke  of  the  Marquis  of  Chandos  with  a 
warmth  which  strongly  reminds  one  of  Vivian  Grey's 
enthusiasm  for  the  Marquis  of  Carabas,  and  made 
use  of  expressions  such  as  the  following,  in  praise  of 
his  new  party,  which  were  certainly  very  much  out 
of  taste :  that  while  no  nation  could  prosper  with- 
out agriculturists,  for  they,  as  bound  to  the  land,  are 
the  special  and  born  patriots,  "  the  manufacturers 
of  Birmingham  and  Manchester  would,  if  it  suited 
them  at  any  time,  migrate  to  Belgium,  France,  or 
Egypt."t 

The  broad,  open-air  style  of  the  speech  is  the 
usual  one  for  platform  eloquence  in  the  country, 
and  prevails  at  the  present  day  with  English  poli- 
ticians of  all  parties,  but  the  tone  of  it  will  excite 
surprise. 

That  same  month  Disraeli  again  came  forward  as 
a  candidate  for  High  Wycombe,  with  a  long  speech, 
which  appeared  in  print  under  the  title  of  "The 

*  O'Connor's  "  Life  of  Lord  Bcaconsficld,"  p.  75. 
f  Ibid. 
6* 


130  Lord  Beacons  field. 

Crisis  Examined."  It  treats  of  the  inevitable  ne- 
cessity of  reforms,  financial,  ecclesiastical,  etc.  ;  but 
tries  especially  to  gain  over  the  constituency  for  the 
new  Tory  Government.  He  eagerly  tries  to  refute 
the  opinion  that  no  reforms  must  be  accepted  from 
the  hands  of  those  who  opposed  the  Reform  Bill; 
he  even  defends  the  party  beforehand  from  the 
accusation  of  apostasy,  if,  after  having  opposed  Re- 
form, they  should  now  favour  it. 

"The  truth  is,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  a  statesman 
is  the  creature  of  his  age,  the  child  of  circumstances, 
the  creation  of  his  times.  A  statesman  is  essentially 
a  practical  character ;  and  when  he  is  called  upon 
to  take  office,  he  is  not  to  inquire  what  his  opinions 
might  or  might  not  have  been  upon  this  or  that  sub- 
ject— he  is  only  to  ascertain  the  needful,  and  the 
beneficial,  and  the  most  feasible  manner  in  which 
affairs  are  to  be  carried  on.  ...  I  laugh,  therefore, 
at  the  objections  against  a  man,  that,  at  a  former 
period  of  his  career,  he  advocated  a  policy  different 
to  his  present  one  ;  all  I  seek  to  ascertain  is,  whether 
his  present  policy  be  just,  necessary,  expedient ; 
whether  he  is  at  the  present  moment  prepared  to 
serve  his  country  according  to  its  present  neces- 
sities."* 

It  does  not  concern  me  to  discuss  the  abstract 

*  O'Connor's  "  Life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,"  p.  80. 


First  Political  Campaigns.  131 

correctness  of  this  candid  avowal,  but  it  is  interest- 
ing from  a  psychological  point  of  view  ;  for  you  may 
be  sure  that  a  man  who  speaks  thus  is  contemplat-. 
ing  a  political  change  of  front. 

After  the  apologetic  introduction  in  favour  of  the 
Tories,  the  pamphlet  makes  an  attack  on  the  late 
Ministry,  of  which  a  fragment  deserves  to  be  quoted, 
as  a  specimen  of  the  political  eloquence  of  young 
Disraeli : — 

"  The  Reform  Ministry !  I  dare  say  now,  some 
of  you  have  heard  of  Mr.  Ducrow,  that  celebrated 
gentleman  who  rides  on  six  horses.  What  a  pro- 
digious achievement !  It  seems  impossible,  but  you1 
have  confidence  in  Ducrow  !  You  fly  to  witness  it. 
Unfortunately,  one  of  the  horses  is  ill,  and  a  donkey 
is  substituted  in  its  place.  But  Ducrow  is  still  ad- 
mirable :  there  he  is,  bounding  along  in  spangled 
jacket  and  cork  slippers  !  The  whole  town  is  mad 
to  see  Ducrow  riding  at  the  same  time  on  six  horses. 
But  now  two  more  of  the  steeds  are  seized  with  the 
staggers,  and  lo !  three  jackasses  in  their  stead ! 
Still  Ducrow  persists,  and  still  announces  to  the 
public  that  he  will  ride  round  his  circus  every  night 
on  his  six  steeds.  At  last  all  the  horses  are  knocked 
up,  and  now  there  are  half  a  dozen  donkeys.  What 
a  change !  Behold  the  hero  in  the  amphitheatre, 
the  spangled  jacket  thrown  on  one  side,  the  cork 
slippers  on  the  other.  Puffing,  panting,  and  per- 


132  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

spiring  he  pokes  one  sullen  brute,  thwacks  another, 
cuffs  a  third,  and  curses  a  fourth,  while  one  brays  to 
the  audience,  and  another  rolls  in  the  sawdust.  Be- 
hold the  late  Prime  Minister  and  the  Reform  Min- 
istry! The  spirited  and  snow-white  steeds  have 
gradually  changed  into  an  equal  number  of  sullen 
and  obstinate  donkeys,  while  Mr.  Merryman,  who, 
like  the  Lord  Chancellor,  was  once  the  very  life 
of  the  ring,  now  lies  his  despairing  length  in  the 
middle  of  the  stage,  with  his  jokes  exhausted,  and 
his  bottles  empty."  * 

The  speech  has  that  sweeping,  vehement,  and  en- 
'tirely  popular  character  which  is  expected  on  such 
occasions  in  England ;  and  yet  one  perceives  in  it 
the  elaboration  of  the  born  author.  Disraeli  con- 
ducted his  whole  electioneering  campaign  with  the 
same  wit  and  spirit  which  appeared  in  this  instance  ; 
and  yet  he  was  again  defeated  for  the  third  time. 
The  consummate  coolness  with  which  he  has  always 
taken  disasters  of  the  kind  did  not  desert  him  on 
this  occasion.  In  a  speech  which  he  made  a  fort- 
night later,  at  a  political  dinner  given  in  his  honour, 
he  said,  with  his  usual  sang-froid :  "  I  am  not  at  all 
disheartened.  I  don't  in  any  way  feel  like  a  beaten 
man.  Perhaps  it  is  because  I  am  used  to  it.  I  can 
say  almost  with  the  famous  Italian  general,  who, 

*  O'Connor's  "  Life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,"  p.  8l. 


First  Political  Campaigns.  133 

being  asked  in  his  old  age  why  he  was  always  vic- 
torious, replied  it  was  because  he  had  always  been 
beaten  in  youth."  * 

This  confidence  in  himself,  which,  in  the  midst  of 
defeat,  enables  him  to  look  forward  to  the  laurels  of 
future  victories,  is  all  the  more  interesting,  because 
the  year  1834,  which  was,  politically,  so  unfortunate 
for  Disraeli,  also  brought  him  ridicule  and  disaster 
in  his  literary  character.  It  was  in  this  year  that 
the  unlucky  fragment  of  "  The  Revolutionary  Epic  " 
appeared  ;  it  turned  out  to  be  a.  fiasco,  and  was  even 
ridiculed  in  Parliament.  However  little  poetical 
value  may  be  attributed  to  the  fragment,  its  fate  is 
a  striking  instance  of  the  cruel  severity  with  which 
men  who  have  contrived  to  make  many  enemies  are 
judged  if  they  once  commit  an  unlucky  mistake. 
Only  fifty  copies  were  first  printed,  and  it  was  not 
until  thirty  years  afterwards  that  the  author  allowed 
it  to  be  republished,  in  order  to  put  an  end  to  fool- 
ish discussions  about  its  contents,  and  yet  in  the 
mean  time,  this  poem,  which  could  scarcely  be  con- 
sidered as  a  publication,  had  played  an  important 
part  in  his  life,  and  served,  mostly  to  those  who  had 
never  seen  it,  as  an  unfailing  point  of  attack  on 
the  author.  The  reflections  in  "  The  Revolutionary 
Epic  "  were  destitute  of  all  simplicity  and  freshness, 

*  "Benjamin  Disraeli,  Earl  of  Bcaconsficld,"  vol.  i.  p.  124. 


134  Lord  Bcaconsfield. 

and  certainly  could  not  attract  any  one ;  the  pathos 
was  of  that  affected  kind  which  sometimes  makes 
Disraeli's  fine  writing  so  repulsive  ;  and  the  versifica- 
tion was  but  mediocre.  It  is  characteristic  of  the 
ambiguous  political  position  of  the  author  that  the 
two  first  cantos  are  in  direct  opposition  to  each 
other,  and  sum  up  the  respective  merits  of  the  feudal 
and  federative  systems. 

I  mention  a  few  characteristic  features.  In  the 
first  canto,  the  abstract  idea  of  equality  of  the 
French  Revelation  is  attacked  on  the  ground  that 
the  character  of  a  people  is  not  manufactured,  but 
slowly  developed  during  a  long  course  of  time,  the 
natural  consequence  of  which  is  inequality.  If  the 
human  race  consisted  of  philosophers,  equality  would 
perhaps  be  possible ;  but  men,  as  they  are,  are  gov- 
erned rather  by  imagination  than  by  reason.  In  the 
second  canto,  the  fearful  consequences  of  tyranny 
and  superstition  are  described  ;  knowledge,  which  is 
power,  glorified ;  and  the  praises  sung  of  public 
opinion  as  the  daughter  of  Lyridon,  namely,  of  the 
federative  principle. 

The  fragment  has  no  distinct  ground  idea ;  it  was 
undoubtedly  intended  to  glorify  the  spirit  of  the 
modern  era ;  nevertheless,  in  spite  of  the  revolution- 
ary title,  it  contains,  as  appears  from  the  plan  of  it, 
many  passages  in  favour  of  tradition,  of  hereditary 
aristocracy  and  monarchical  power  in  true  Tory 


First  Political  Campaigns.  135 

style,  and  they  almost  seem  like  the  forerunners  of 
the  lyrical  effusions  with  which  "  Young  England," 
Disraeli's  subsequent  noble  body-guard,  astonished 
the  world.  When  he  is  reckoning  up,  for  example, 
what  constitutes  a  nation  in  contrast  to  a  tribe,  be- 
sides honour,  justice,  and  patriotism,  he  says : — 

"  In  multitudes  thus  formed — " 
A  throne  majestic  yielding,  and  a  band 
Of  nobles  dignified,  and  gentry  pure, 
And  holy  priests,  and  reverend  magistrates  ; 
In  multitudes  thus  formed  and  highly  trained 
Of  laws  and  arts,  and  truthful  prejudice 
And  holy  faith,  the  soul-inspired  race, 
I  recognize  a  People." 

Disraeli's  many  defeats  were  partly  caused  by 
the  fact  that  nobody  could  find  out  exactly  from 
"What  is  He?"  what  the  author  was,  whether 
Radical  or  Tory,  and  he  daily  felt  the  necessity  of 
decidedly  taking  one  side  or  the  other.  So  he 
passed  the  Rubicon,  and  went  straight  over  into 
the  Tory  camp.  He  had  previously  put  down  his 
name  for  the  Westminster  Reform  Club ;  he  now 
withdrew  it.  He  had  spoken  in  favour  of  secret 
voting,  but,  as  this  was  opposed  to  the  Tory  pro- 
gramme, because  the  landowners  would  lose  the 
power  of  tyrannizing  over  the  small  boroughs  at  the 
elections,  he  not  only  dropped  it,  but  spoke  against 
it.  He  had  written  against  the  tyranny  of  the  State 
Church  in  Ireland;  he  now  demanded  that  it  be  re- 


136  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

tained.     He  had  sought  O'Connell's  protection ;  he 
now  tried  to  win  his  spurs  at  his  expense. 

In  April,  1835,  Peel  was  defeated  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  and  a  Whig  administration  was  again 
formed  by  Lord  Melbourne.  When  a  member  of 
the  new  Ministry  offered  himself  for  re-election  at 
Taunton,  he  was  opposed  by  the  indefatigable  Dis- 
raeli, who  in  his  speech  on  the  occasion,  tried  to 
smooth  over  the  change  in  his  politics  by  an  ap- 
parently ingenuous  candour.  He  boasted  of  his 
political  stedfastness,  because  of  his  unchanged  op- 
position to  the  Whigs.  If  he  no  longer  advocated 
certain  measures,  it  was  because,  since  the  Tory 
party  had  recovered  itself,  they  were  no  longer 
necessary.  He  had,  for  example,  advocated  secret 
voting  in  order  to  secure  to  the  towns  liberty  to 
vote  for  members  of  the  land  party  (!).  They  now 
no  longer  needed  this  protection.  He  spoke  in 
favour  of  the  Protestant  Church  in  Ireland ;  the 
outcry  against  it  was  very  much  exaggerated ;  if 
this  Church  really  was  such  an  intolerable  pest,  why 
had  it  only  just  been  discovered?  He  accused  the 
Whigs,  who  supported  the  Irish  demands,  of  en- 
couraging Ireland  to  "annihilate  the  Protestants." 
He  bitterly  reproached  them  with  not  having  been 
ashamed  to  grasp  O'Connell's  bloody  hand  in  order 
to  enter  into  a  league  against  the  State  Church,  and 
when  the  expression,  "  bloody  hand,"  was  objected 


First  Political  Campaigns.  137 

to,  he  explained  that  he  did  not  accuse  Mr.  O'Con- 
nell  of  entering  parliament  with  bloody  hands,  but 
only  maintained  that  his  policy  threatened  the 
country  with  disruption,  and  could  not  be  carried 
out  without  civil  war.  Now,  it  must  be  told  that 
just  four  months  before,  in  his  published  speech 
called  "The  Crisis  Examined,"  Disraeli  had  said 
that  "  Twelve  months  must  not  be  allowed  to  pass 
before  even  the  word  'tithe'  in  that  country  (Ire- 
land) must  be  abolished."  He  had,  indeed,  then,  as 
always  afterwards,  spoken  against  the  entire  aboli- 
tion of  the  Irish  Church,  because  the  plunder  of  a 
Church  was  always  a  benefit  only  to  the  aristocracy, 
but  he  would  have  had  large  concessions  of  all  sorts 
made  to  the  Dissenters;  but  now,  when  the  Irish 
were  in  desperation,  and  the  refusal  to  pay  tithes 
had  led  to  fearful  massacres  of  men,  women,  and 
children,  he  took  the  side  of  the  State  Church  out 
of  opposition  to  the  Whigs. 

When  it  is  remembered  that  Disraeli  made  his 
first  public  appearance  as  O'Connell's  prottgt,  the 
amazement  and  indignation  of  the  great  agitator 
will  be  readily  imagined  when,  a  few  days  after  the 
election,  he  read  Disraeli's  expression  about  his 
"  bloody  hand  "  in  a  paper,  in  which  the  subsequent 
softening  down  of  it  was  not  even  mentioned.  At 
a  meeting  of  the  Irish  Trades  Union  at  Dublin,  he 
answered  it.  In  a  speech,  brimming  over  with 


138  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

humour  and  contempt,  O'Connell  mentioned  that 
this  man  had  personally  sought  him  out,  and  called 
himself  a  Radical ;  as  such  had  asked  and  obtained 
a  letter  of  recommendation  from  him,  and  had  so 
highly  valued  his  autograph  that  he  had  had  it 
printed  and  posted  up  as  a  placard;  and  now  he 
showed  his  gratitude  by  calling  him  a  murderer  and 
an  incendiary. 

"  Having  been  twice  defeated  on  the  Radical  in- 
terest, he  was  just  the  fellow  for  the  Conservatives. 
.  .  .  How  is  he  now  engaged  ?  Why,  in  abusing 
the  Radicals,  and  eulogizing  the  King  and  the 
Church  like  a  true  Conservative.  .  .  .  His  life,  I 
say  again,  is  a  living  lie.  .  .  .  He  is  Conserva- 
tism personified.  His  name  shows  he  is  by  descent 
a  Jew.  His  father  became  a  convert.  He  is  the 
better  for  that  in  this  world  ;  and  I  hope,  of  course, 
he  will  be  the  better  for  it  in  the  next.  There  is 
a  habit  of  underrating  that  great  and  oppressed 
nation,  the  Jews.  They  are  cruelly  persecuted  by 
persons  calling  themselves  Christians  ;  but  no  per- 
son ever  yet  was  a  Christian  .who  persecuted.  The 
crudest  persecution  they  suffer  is  upon  their  char- 
acter, by  the  foul  names  which  their  calumniators 
bestowed  upon  them  before  they  carried  their  atro- 
cities into  effect.  They  feel  the  persecution  of 
calumny  severer  on  them  than  the  persecution  of 
actual  force  and  the  tyranny  of  actual  torture.  I 


First  Political  Campaigns.  139 

have  the  happiness  to  be  acquainted  with  some 
Jewish  families  in  London,  and  amongst  them,  more 
accomplished  ladies,  or  more  humane,  cordial,  high- 
minded,  or  better-educated  gentlemen,  I  have  never 
met.  It  will  not  be  supposed,  therefore,  that  when 
I  speak  of  Disraeli  as  the  descendant  of  a  Jew,  I 
mean  to  tarnish  him  on  that  account.  They  were 
once  the  chosen  people  of  God.  There  were  miscre- 
ants amongst  them,  however,  also,  and  it  must  have 
certainly  been  from  one  of  those  that  Disraeli  de- 
scended. He  possesses  just  the  qualities  of  the  im- 
penitent thief  who  died  upon  the  cross,  whose  name, 
I  verily  believe,  must  have  been  Disraeli.  "  * 

Just  about  the  time  when  this  speech  was  made, 
Morgan  O'Connell  had  fought  a  duel  for  his  father 
in  London.  A  Lord  Alvanley,  thinking  himself  in- 
sulted by  the  agitator,  had  sent  him  a  challenge ; 
and,  as  he  'had  had  the  misfortune  in  his  youth  to 
kill  an  adversary  in  a  duel,  and  had  made  a  vow 
never  to  fight  another,  the  son  took  up  the  chal- 
lenge given  to  his  father. 

A  few  days  after  this  duel,  which  terminated 
without  injury  to  young  O'Connell,  Disraeli  sent 
him  a  challenge  on  account  of  his  father's  speech  in 
Dublin,  as  the  only  means  of  obtaining  satisfaction. 


*  "  Benjamin  Disraeli,  M.P.  :    A  Literary    and   Political   Biog- 
raphy," p.  611. 


140  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

The  challenge  was  refused,  and  on  the  very  same 
day,  Disraeli  seized  the  pen  and  sent  to  the  Times 
a  letter  to  O'Connell,  which,  from  its  fierce  indigna- 
tion and  vigour  of  style,  takes  a  high  place  among 
his  political  utterances.  He  begins  by  saying  that, 
although  his  adversary  had  long  placed  himself 
beyond  the  pale  of  civilization,  he  (Disraeli)  was 
determined  not  to  suffer  insult,  even  from  a  barba- 
rian, to  go  unpunished.  The  expression  applied  to 
O'Connell  had  been  misunderstood  and  incorrectly 
reported.  If  it  had  been  possible  for  O'Connell  to 
act  like  a  gentleman,  he  would  have  delayed  his 
attack  until  he  had  ascertained  with  certainty  what 
really  had  been  said  about  him.  O'Connell,  not  he, 
was  the  renegade,  for  he  was  now  an  ally  of  the 
Whigs,  while  he  was,  as  before,  their  opponent  on 
principle.  He  had  never  sought  out  O'Connell 
with  any  other  programme  but  that  the  Whigs  must 
be  got  rid  of  at  any  price,  and  to  this  programme 
he  firmly  adhered.  The  letter  concludes  with  the 
following  sneer  at  O'Connell's  Irish  pension,  and 
with  a  vigorous  threat : — "  With  regard  to  your 
taunts  as  to  my  want  of  success  in  my  election  con- 
tests, permit  me  to  remind  you  that  I  had  nothing 
to  appeal  to  but  the  good  sense  of  the  people.  No 
threatening  skeletons  canvassed  for  me ;  a  Death's 
head  and  cross-bones  were  not  blazoned  on  my 
banners.  My  pecuniary  resources,  too,  were  limited. 


First  Political  Campaigns.  141 

I  am  not  one  of  those  public  beggars  that  we  see 
swarming  with  their  obtrusive  boxes  in  the  chapels 
of  your  creed,  nor  am  I  in  possession  of  a  princely 
revenue  arising  from  a  starving  race  of  fanatical 
slaves.  Nevertheless,  I  have  a  deep  conviction  that 
the  hour  is  at  hand  when  I  shall  be  more  successful, 
and  take  my  place  in  that  proud  assembly  of  which 
Mr.  O'Connell  avows  his  wish  no  longer  to  be  a 
member.  I  expect  to  be  a  representative  of  the 
people  before  the  Repeal  of  the  Union.  We  shall 
meet  again  at  Philippi ;  and  rest  assured  that,  con- 
fident in  a  good  cause,  and  in  some  energies  which 
have  not  been  altogether  unimproved,  I  will  seize 
the  first  opportunity  of  inflicting  upon  you  a  casti- 
gation  which  will  make  you  at  the  same  time  re- 
member and  repent  the  insults  that  you  have  lav- 
ished upon 

"  BENJAMIN  DISRAELI."  * 


*  "  Benjamin  Disraeli,  M.P.:  A  Literary  and  Political  Biography," 
p.  617. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  "VINDICATION  OF  THE  ENGLISH  CONSTITU- 
TION." 

WHEN  Disraeli,  in  the  summer  of  1835,  looked 
back  on  his  three  years'  political  campaign,  he  had 
little  reason  to  feel  satisfaction  in  it.  He  had 
achieved  but  little  more  than  to  attract  attention  as 
a  political  aspirant,  and  he  had  suffered  many  hu- 
miliations, losses,  and  defeats.  It  was  not  easy  to 
work  in  the  political  coal-mine  without  soiling  your 
fingers,  but  when  he  looked  at  his  hands,  he  could 
not  but  discover  that  they  were  very  rfluch  soiled  in 
a  very  short  time,  and  even  his  face  was  not  free 
from  spots.  He  did  not  feel  guilty  about  O'Con- 
nell,  for  when  he  sought  his  support,  O'Connell  had 
not  come  out  with  his  most  thoroughgoing  inten- 
tions— he  had  not  advocated  the  Repeal  of  the 
Union,  the  abolition  of  the  State  Church,  or  of  the 
House  of  Lords  ;  still,  he  felt  the  necessity  of  clear- 
ing himself  in  his  own  eyes  and  those  of  his  fellows, 
of  making  the  political  system  which  he  meant  to 
advocate  in  the  future,  plain  to  himself  and  others ; 
and  after  solitary  reflection,  and  interviews  with 

142 


"Vindication  of  the  English  Constitution.'"    143 

Lord  Lyndhurst  and  other  eminent  Tory  leaders, 
he  began  to  put  down  his  thoughts  in  the  form  of 
a  letter  to  that  statesman,  and  gave  it  the  rather 
pompous  title  of  "  Vindication  of  the  English  Con- 
stitution, in  a  Letter  to  a  Noble  and  Learned  Lord, 
by  Disraeli  the  Younger." 

Various  elements  combined  to  give  rise  to  the 
production  of  this  political  sketch  ;  annoyance  at  his 
own  mistakes,  and  the  need  of  giving  guarantees  by 
an  open  confession,  hastened  the  project;  youthful 
sympathies,  and  early  imbibed  antipathies,  with  re- 
cent experiences,  combined  to  furnish  the  contents. 
With  all  the  passionate  energy  of  his  nature,  Disraeli 
was  deeply  chagrined  at  the  political  vacillation  of 
which  he  had  been  guilty.  He. had  imagined  it  pos- 
sible to  assume  an  independent  position  outside  the 
two  old  aristocratic  parties ;  this  had  not  proved  to 
be  possible,  and  he  now  desired,  with  all  the  vigour 
and  persistency  of  which  he  was  capable,  to  join  the 
Tories,  to  take  a  side  in  such  a  way  as  to  leave  no 
doubt  as  to  which  side  he  had  taken.  But  at  the 
same  time,  it  was  his  decided  wish  to  reserve  his 
political  liberty,  and  he  was,  therefore,  by  no  means 
disposed  to  accept  the  existing  Tory  policy  as  a 
dogma.  Having  found  it  impossible  to  make  his 
way  as  a  Radical,  he  desired,  as  far  as  possible,  to 
carry  over  the  Radical  tendencies  with  him  to  the 
Tory  camp,  and  he  asserted  that  the  greater  part  of 


144  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

what  were  considered  the  essentials  of  the  Tory 
cause,  were  in  reality  only  excrescences  of  it.  Now 
that  the  prospect  was  at  an  end  of  forming  a  great 
national  party  out  of  Radicals  and  Tories  combined, 
which  he  had  advocated  at  High  Wycombe,  his  ob- 
ject was  to  prove  that  the  Tory  party,  if  Toryism 
were  taken  in  its  true  sense,  was  this  liberal  and 
national  party.  His  task,  therefore,  in  the  future, 
must  be  to  lead  the  party  back  to  its  principles.* 

The  "  Vindication  of  the  English  Constitution " 
begins,  as  might  be  expected  from  the  author  of 
"  Popanilla,"  with  a  fierce  attack  on  Bentham  and 
his  school.  Disraeli  teaches  that  legislation  cannot 
possibly  be  based  upon  utilitarianism,  and  ridicules 
the  cognate  principle  of  the  greatest  happiness  of 
the  greatest  number  as  a  criterion  by  which  to  judge 
it ;  not  like  the  Pessimist  of  to-day,  for  he  does  not 
believe  in  the  possibility  of  happiness  at  all — men 
like  Disraeli  are  born  ultra-Optimists — but  he 
adopted  the  usual  arguments  of  the  historic  school. 
Institutions  must  grow  up  by  degrees  and  be  altered 
by  degrees ;  they  are  the  outcome  of  the  national 
character  as  a  whole,  and  as  such  cannot  be  trans- 
formed in  a  day ;  the  system  which  suits  one  coun- 
try does  not  suit  another,  etc. — truths  which  were  by 

*  An  opponent  of  Disraeli's  has  epigrammatically  said  :  "  We  all 
know  that  Mr.  Disraeli  has  never  believed  that  the  function  of  Con- 
servatism is  to  conserve." 


" Vindication  of  the  English  Constitution"     145 

no  means  overlooked  by  Bentham,  when  he  placed 
the  rights  of  the  public  good  above  those  of  ancient 
usage. 

The  "  Vindication  of  the  English  Constitution  " 
is  a  defence  of  its  traditional  aristocratic  principle. 
Disraeli's  first  object  is  to  repel  the  attacks  on  the 
House  of  Lords  common  at  that  time.  He  at- 
tempts, therefore,  to  point  out  the  harmony  be- 
tween the  principles  on  which  both  Houses  are 
based,  so  as  to  defend  the  Lords  from  the  charge 
of  being  an  anomaly.  He  tries  to  prove,  first,  that 
the  Upper  House  is  not  less  representative  than 
the  elective  Lower  House  ;  and,  secondly,  that  the 
latter,  though  not  to  the  same  extent,  is  based  on 
the  hereditary  principle  like  the  other. 

He  declares  that  it  is  untrue  to  say  that  the  rep- 
resentative and  aristocratic  principles  are  opposed 
to  each  other;  it  is  untrue  to  speak  of  the  Commons 
as  the  popular  House,  as  opposed  to  the  Lords  as 
aristocratic.  For  both  Houses  are  composed,  so 
long  as  universal  suffrage  is  not  a  part  of  the  Con- 
stitution, of  the  privileged  classes ;  both  are  at  once 
popular  and  representative.  The  proof  is  adduced, 
premising  that  the  chain  of  reasoning  is  condensed, 
in  the  following  bold  style  : — Representation  is  not 
dependent  on  elections ;  a  chamber  may  be  repre- 
sentative without  being  elective  (as,  for  example, 
the  Press  represents  interests  and  ideas,  although 

7 


146  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

journalists  are  not  elected).  In  the  House  of  Lords, 
for  instance,  the  bishops  represent  the  Church,  and 
they  having  often  (?)  risen  from  the  lowest  ranks  of 
the  people,  "  form  the  most  democratic  element 
among  the  many  popular  elements  in  the  Upper 
House."  The  whole  difference,  then,  between  the 
two  Houses  consists  in  the  great  difference  between 
the  number  of  members  in  the  two  political  classes 
from  which  they  spring.  The  one  is  a  privileged 
class  of  300,000  persons,  who  are  represented  by 
delegates,  because  they  are  too  numerous  to  appear 
in  person,  the  other  is  a  privileged  class  of  300  no- 
bles, who  attend  in  person. 

Having  demonstrated  the  popular  character  of 
the  Upper  House  in  this  remarkable  manner,  Dis- 
raeli proceeds  to  discover  the  hereditary  principle  in 
the  composition  of  the  Lower.  He  is  of  opinion 
that  this  principle  of  hereditary  legislature  is  the 
principle  on  which  the  English  Constitution  has 
been  upreared,  and  to  which  it  owes  its  strength  in 
comparison  with  the  impracticable  paper  constitu- 
tion of  the  Continent,  particularly  of  France.  Ev- 
erybody knows  that  the  Upper  House  is  an  assem- 
bly where  the  right  to  make  laws  is  hereditary,  but 
it  is  overlooked  that  in  the  Lower  House  the  right 
to  elect  legislators  is  scarcely  less  hereditary,  that 
practically,  if  not  nominally,  the  heredity  of  the ' 
legislative  office  is  the  rule  ;  the  representative  of 


"Vindication  of  the  English  Constitution.'"    147 

a  county  is  invariably  chosen  from  one  of  the  first 
families  of  the  county,  and  ten  years  after  his  elec- 
tion he,  as  invariably,  leads  his  son  to  the  hustings, 
and  commends  him  to  the  confidence  of  the  con- 
stituency, so  that  he  succeeds  to  his  father — he 
enters  on  his  inheritance. 

Thus,  then,  it  is  demonstrated  that  the  Lower 
House  is  the  House  of  a  privileged  class,  based  upon 
inheritance,  and  that  the  Upper  House  is  not  an 
aristocratic,  but  a  representative,  and  in  many  re- 
spects democratic,  assembly ;  and  next  Disraeli 
passes  on,  with  a  light  heart,  to  his  favourite  theme, 
the  mischief  done  by  the  Whig  party.  He  seeks  to 
prove  that  the  Venetian  Republic  has  for  a  long 
period  served  the  Whigs  as  a  model,  and  that  since 
the  English  Revolution  they  have  persistently  car- 
ried out  their  plan  of  robbing  the  King  of  his  rights, 
and  reducing  him  from  an  English  sovereign  to  the 
position  of  a  Doge  of  Venice.  Their  aim  has  ever 
been  to  establish  an  oligarchy  which  should  abso- 
lutely govern  the  Crown  and  people.  Their  watch- 
ward,  it  is  true,  is  civil  and  religious  liberty,  but  by 
civil  liberty  they  mean  that  the  sovereign  shall  be  a 
doge,  and  by  religious  liberty  that  the  State  Church 
shall  be  abolished  for  the  benefit  of  the  fanatical 
Puritanism  with  which  it  has  allied  itself.  The 
Tories,  on  the  contrary,  who  felt  compelled  to  adopt 
the  unpopular  watchword,  "the  kingdom  by  the 


148  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

grace  of  God,"  were  originally  the  really  Liberal 
party,  who  wished  to  secure  their  rights  to  the  peo- 
ple by  upholding  the  power  of  the  sovereign.  The 
watchwords  had  quickly  become  antiquated,  the 
Tory  party  held  more,  the  Whigs  less,  popular  and 
liberal  views  than  would  be  supposed  from  their 
party  cries,  and  thus  it  had  been  rendered  possible, 
even  .at  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  for 
the  Tory  party  to  undergo  a  regeneration  similar  to 
that  which  was  now  taking  place.  The  portraiture 
of  the  statesman  to  whom  it  owed  this  reorganiza- 
tion, Henry  St.  John,  Lord  Bolingbroke,  Disraeli's 
extolled  political  ideal,  is  highly  interesting,  for  it 
obviously  contains  confessions  as  well  as  promises, 
and  an  attempt  at  a  description  of  himself-: — 

"  In  the  season  of  which  I  am  treating,  arose  a 
man  remarkable  in  an  illustrious  age,  who,  with  the 
splendour  of  an  organizing  genius,  settled  the  con- 
fused and  discordant  materials  of  English  faction, 
and  reduced  them  into  a  clear  and  systematic  order. 
This  was  Lord  Bolingbroke.  Gifted  with  that  fiery 
imagination,  the  teeming  fertility  of  whose  inventive 
resources  is  as  necessary  to  a  great  statesman  or  a 
great  general  as  to  a  great  poet,"  he  was  "  the  ablest 
writer  and  the  most  accomplished  orator  of  his  age, 
that  rare  union  that,  in  a  country  of  free  Parliaments 
and  a  free  Press,  ensures  to  its  possessor  the  privi- 
lege of  exercising  a  constant  influence  over  the  mind 


"  Vindication  of  the  English  Constitution."    149 

of  his  country.  .  .  .  Opposed  to  the  Whigs  from 
principle,  for  an  oligarchy  is  hostile  to  genius,  .  .  . 
it  is  probable  that  in  the  earlier  years  of  his  career 
he  meditated  over  the  formation  of  a  new  party — 
that  dream  of  youthful  ambition  in  a  perplexed  and 
discordant  age,  but  destined  in  English  politics  to 
be  never  more  substantial  than  a  vision.  More  ex- 
perienced in  political  life,  he  became  aware  that  he 
had  only  to  choose  between  the  Whigs  and  the 
Tories,  and  his  sagacious  intellect,  not  satisfied  with 
the  superficial  character  of  these  celebrated  divi- 
sions, penetrated  their  interior  and  essential  qualities, 
and  discovered,  in  spite  of  all  the  affectation  of  popu- 
lar sympathy  on  one  side,  and  of  admiration  of  arbi- 
trary power  on  the  other,  that  this  choice  was  in  fact 
a  choice  between  oligarchy  and  democracy.  From 
the  moment  that  Lord  Bolingbroke,  in  becoming  a 
Tory,  embraced  the  national  cause,  he  devoted  him- 
self absolutely  to  his  party :  all  the  energies  of  his 
Protean  mind  were  lavished  in  their  service.  .  .  . 
It  was  his  inspiring  pen  .  .  .  that  eradicated  from 
Toryism  all  those  absurd  and  odious  doctrines  which 
Toryism  had  adventitiously  adopted,  and  clearly 
developed  its  essential  and  permanent  character." 

Bolingbroke    wrote    a    work    called   "  A   Patriot 
King,"  in  which  he  suggests  that  the  king  and  the 

*  Hitchman's  "  Public  Life  of  the  Earl  of  Beaconsfield,"  vol.  i. 
p.  113. 


150  Lord  Beacons  field. 

Tory  aristocracy  should  unite  with  the  masses,  in' 
order  to  suppress  the  Whigs  and  the  middle  classes. 
Disraeli's  pamphlet  suggests  something  very  similar. 
He  was,  by  nature,  half  popular  tribune,  half  cour- 
tier. His  sympathies  went  with  the  poverty  of  the 
people,  and  the  splendour  of  the  throne.  A  less 
bourgeois,  or  bourgeois-aristocratic,  character  can 
scarcely  be  conceived.  As  his  daemonic  ambition 
now  compelled  him  to  make  choice  between  the 
Tories  and  Whigs,  he  decided  for  the  Tories,  and  at 
the  moment  of  choice  turned  it  into  an  advocacy  of 
an  alliance  between  the  Crown  and  the  masses,  so 
that  it  thus  became  an  expression  of  his  own  native 
sympathies. 


CHAPTER  XI. 
"VENETIA"  AND  "HENRIETTA  TEMPLE." 

DISRAELI  was  now  over  thirty,  and  the  years  be- 
tween thirty  and  forty  are  generally  the  most  pro- 
ductive for  creative  minds,  in  every  sphere  of  action. 
The  sun  of  passion  is  then  in  the  sign  of  the  Lion, 
and  the  mind  is  comprehensive  enough  to  embrace 
thirst  for  action  as  well  as  visionary  fancies.  Before 
the  age  of  thirty,  much  time  is  lost  in  frivolity  and 
indecision — you  fancy  that  there  is  time  enough  and 
to  spare.  After  forty,  imagination  is  often  quenched 
by  active  life,  which  calls  all  the  powers  into  requisi- 
tion. But  in  these  early  years  of  mature  manhood, 
the  mind  is  both  young  and  old  enough  to  exercise 
the  creative  and  practical  faculties  at  the  same  time. 

While  Disraeli  was  keeping  the  political  public  in 
a  state  of  constant  excitement  by  a  series  of  anony- 
mous articles  in  favour  of  and  against  English  states- 
men, which  were  published  in  the  Times  under  the 
title  of  "  Letters  from  Runnymede,"  and  while  he 
was  involved  in  a  fierce  controversy  with  the  Globe 
newspaper,  in  consequence  of  numerous  accusations 
of  political  treachery,  he  withdrew  into  the  more 
peaceful  arena  of  fiction,  and  wrote  the- only  two  of 

151 


152  Lord  Beaconsficld. 

his  novels  in  which  there  is  but  a  faint  trace  of  poli- 
tics, "  Venetia"  and  "  Henrietta  Temple." 

"  Venetia  "  is  a  very  peculiar  book,  a  mixture  of 
imagination  and  reality,  to  which  even  Disraeli's 
novels  offer  no  parallel ;  it  is  an  attempt  to  treat  of 
characters  and  circumstances  in  the  form  of  a  ro- 
mance, with  whom  and  with  which  the  whole  first 
generation  of  readers  were  contemporary,  and  they 
are  still  so  well  known  that  the  reader  always  feels 
put  out  and  confused  when  historical  truth  ceases 
and  fiction  begins. 

Considering  how  deep  an  impression  Byron  had 
made  upon  Disraeli,  it  will  be  readily  understood 
that  he  took  the  misunderstanding  of  the  great  poet 
much  to  heart.  He  saw  with  regret  that,  long  after 
Byron's  death,  the  old  narrow-minded  and  bigoted 
condemnation  of  him  still  prevailed  in  English  good 
society,  so  called,  and  he  made  up  his  mind  to  do 
away  with  it.  That  his  private  life  had  not  been  so 
blameless  and  brilliant  as  his  public  career,  was  a 
circumstance  which,  in  Disraeli's  eyes,  need  not 
lessen  his  reputation  in  the  eyes  of  posterity.  It  is 
even  characteristic  of  Disraeli  that,  with  a  freedom 
from  prejudice  very  rare  in  England,  he  has  always 
pronounced  those  men  to  be  great  or  eminent  whose 
distinguished  qualities  the  crowd,  with  their  petty 
bourgeois  moralizings,  were  disposed  to  overlook,  on 
account  of  failings  in  their  private  life,  as,  for  in- 


"Venetia"  and  "Henrietta  Temple"         153 

stance,  Lord  Bolingbroke,  Lord  Byron,  and  Count 
d'Orsay.  The  study  of  Byron  seems  to  have  led 
Disraeli  to  the  study  of  Shelley,  from  which  it  is  in- 
separable ;  and  although  Shelley's  ethereal  nature 
was  less  congenial  to  him  than  Byron's  tempestuous 
power,  his  deep  occupation  with  these  contempora- 
neous spirits  led  him  to  embrace  both  in  his  creative 
enthusiasm.  He  wanted  to  write  a  book  which 
should  gain  the  admiration  of  their  countrymen  for 
their  two  great  sons,  which  should  regain  for  Byron 
the  hearts  which  he  had  lost,  and  open  people's  eyes 
to  what  they  had  possessed  in  Shelley,  and  had,  with 
cruel  folly,  thrown  away.  In  the  centre  of  the  book 
he  places  a  young  girl,  a  beautiful  character,  from 
her  innocence  and  latent  energy,  modest  and  high- 
minded  ;  she  is  a  link  between  the  two  great  men, 
for  she  is  Shelley's  daughter  and  Byron's  fiancee. 
He  divides  Byron's  life  into  two  halves ;  the  greater 
part  of  the  incidents  of  his  career — his  gloomy  child- 
hood, his  relations  with  his  unwise  mother,  his  first 
success  as  a  poet  in  London  and  his  deification  there, 
his  relations  with  Lady  Caroline  Lamb,  and  the  fall 
from  being  a  lion  to  a  scapegoat — he  attributes  to 
Plantagenet  Cadurcis,  a  young  man  whom  he  en- 
dowed with  all  the  essentials  of  Byron's  character 
and  tendencies.*  Other  equally  well-known  inci- 

*  Compare  G.  Brandes,  "  Die  Hauptstromungen  in  dcr  Literatur 
des  19  Jahrhunderts,"  vol.  iv.  p.  395. 

7* 


154  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

dents  of  Byron's  fate — the  unfortunate  marriage,  the 
separation  soon  after  the  birth  of  a  daughter — he 
attributed  to  the  elder  poet  and  hero,  who  is  ideally 
handsome,  and  enthusiastic  for  reform,  Marmion 
Herbert,  to  whom  he  gave  Shelley's  character  and 
genius.  Lady  Byron,  very  much  idealized,  is  Shel- 
ley's deserted  wife,  which  is  confusing,  and  the 
young  lady  whose  position  agrees  with  that  of 
Byron's  daughter  Ada,  is  Byron's  playfellow  and 
Shelley's  daughter — you  have  to  pay  close  attention 
in  reading  the  book  to  keep  the  relationships  clear. 
And  yet  it  was  a  success.  In  spite  of  its  violation 
of  all  aesthetic  rules,  it  is  a  beautiful,  impassioned, 
and  spirited  book ;  a  good  genius  presides  over  it, 
and  a  waft  of  liberty  flutters  through  its  pages. 

Venetia  is  the  name  given  by  Disraeli  to  the 
heroine,  in  honour  of  the  city  in  Europe  dearest  to 
his  heart,  and  of  which  both  Byron  and  Shelley  were 
very  fond.  She  is  brought  up,  without  knowing  her 
history,  by  a  mother  who  lives  in  retirement,  and 
without  venturing  to  ask  the  name  of  her  unknown 
father,  though  she  conjectures  that  he  is  still  living. 
She  one  day  enters  a  room  which  had  always  been 
kept  locked,  sees  Marmion  Herbert's  life-sized  por- 
trait, is  struck  by  its  supernatural  beauty,  finds 
verses  which  he  had  written  in  his  joy  at  her  birth, 
and  begins  secretly  to  idealize  her  unknown  father. 
The  playmate  of  her  childhood,  Lord  Cadurcis, 


"Venetia"  and  "Henrietta  Temple"         155 

Byron's  alter  ego,  who  had  been  brought  up  in  the 
narrowest  and  most  rigid  Tory  notions  of  that  day, 
offers  her  his  hand ;  and  Venetia,  although  she  likes 
him,  replies  to  his  proposals  by  expressing  her  de- 
sire above  all  things  to  live  for  her  father.  His 
wounded  pride  causes  him  to  heap  reproaches  on 
Herbert's  name ;  he  calls  Herbert,  that  is,  Shelley, 
"  a  man  whose  name  is  synonymous  with  infamy  ;  " 
in  short,  he  gives  vent  to  his  feelings  against  free- 
thinkers, republicans,  and  immoral  people  in  gen- 
eral. Venetia's  anger  is  roused,  and  she  answers : 
"  Passionate  and  ill-mannered  boy !  words  cannot 
express  the  disgust  and  the  contempt  with  which 
you  inspire  me."* 

Years  go  by ;  the  young  lord  comes  to  London, 
sees  life  with  the  eye  of  genius,  and  all  his  foolish 
prejudices  and  theological  absurdities  fall  from  his 
eyes  like  scales.  He  finds  Marmion  Herbert's  po- 
ems, reads  them  with  amazement,  enthusiasm,  and 
admiration,  becomes  his  sworn  disciple,  and  would 
sooner  outdo  him  than  shrink  from  the  consequences 
which  the  great  exile  has  brought  upon  himself! 

When  himself  compelled  to  turn  his  back  upon 
England,  he  meets  with  Herbert  in  Italy,  wins  his  af- 
fection and  Venetia's  love.  Herbert  and  his  wife  are 
reconciled.  The  paradisaical  happihess,  which  seems 

*"  Venetia,"  p.  201. 


156  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

to  be  dawning  for  everybody,  is  destroyed  by  the 
catastrophe  of  the  book ;  the  fate  of  Shelley  befalls 
both  the  great  poets.  They  go  to  the  bottom,  with 
their  yacht,  in  a  voyage  near  the  coast  of  Tuscany. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  this  is  the  first  sub- 
ject which  charms  our  new  Tory  convert.  Is  it  not 
perfectly  clear  that  he  wished,  after  his  fierce  politi- 
cal struggles,  to  plunge  into  the  pure  waters  of 
poesy,  and  to  convince  the  world  and  himself  that, 
by  going  over  to  the  Tories,  he  had  in  no  wise 
pledged  himself  to  the  narrowness  and  hypocrisy 
of  the  "  stupid  party  "  ?  He  reserved  his  right  to 
contemn  Byron's  notorious  Tories  as  much  as  he 
contemned  them,  to  extol  the  unselfish  philan- 
thropy and  world-embracing  poetic  mind  of  the 
Pantheistic  Shelley,  though  he  was  still  looked  upon 
by  the  Whig  champions  of  religious  liberty  as  a 
hybrid  between  a  madman  and  a  criminal.  Was  it 
also  a  satisfaction  to  him,  just  as  he  had  made,  for 
political  reasons,  the  transition  from  Radicalism  to 
Toryism,  to  describe  how  a  richly  endowed  genius 
had  made  the  transition  from  the  narrowest  and 
early  imbibed  Toryism  to  the  most  large-hearted 
and  advanced  Radicalism  ?  I  have  an  idea  that  he 
felt  that  it  tended  to  restore  his  mental  equilibrium  ; 
an  equilibrium  which,  perhaps,  with  men  of  passion- 
ate natures,  is  easily  disturbed,  but  which  every  one 
involuntarily  seeks  to  preserve. 


"Venetia"  and  "Henrietta  Temple"         157 

The  romance  of  "  Venetia  "  is  a  masterpiece  of 
tact :  it  conducts  the  case  of  the  two  unjustly  exiled 
men,  without  coming  into  too  close  quarters  with 
any  living  person  ;  it  transfigures  Lady  Byron  into 
a  highly  poetic  being,  though  it  fervently  advocates 
Byron's  cause  ;  it  does  not  condemn  a  single  one  of 
the  enemies  of  the  two  poets,  only  the  "  despicable 
coterie,"  which  had  taken  upon  itself  to  represent 
England,  and  had  driven  Byron  into  exile  in  Eng- 
land's name,  and  had  thus  misled  him  into  hurling 
his  darts  at  his  country,  instead  of  at  this  miserable 
coterie  alone  ;  it  is  only  on  Lord  Melbourne,  hus- 
band of  Lady  Caroline,  that  a  somewhat  comical 
light  is  thrown,  but  he  was  purposely  selected  as  a 
victim,  being  then  the  Whig  Prime  Minister. 

Further,  "  Venetia  "  is  a  poetical  work  :  it  was  a 
fine  idea  to  allot  to  a  woman,  a  young,  pure,  strong- 
hearted  girl,  the  part  of  mediator,  first  between 
Byron  and  Shelley,  and  then  between  them  both 
and  the  English  people.  With  her  brightness  and 
golden  hair,  she  comes  before  us  as  the  dauntless 
genius  of  love,  understanding  all,  forgiving  all,  and 
blotting  out  with  her  finger  the  stains  in  the  lives  of 
the  two  men  of  splendid  genius,  whom  she  adores 
and  admires  as  daughter  and  fiancee.  "  Venetia  "  is 
the  only  one  of  Disraeli's  romances  in  which  he  has 
introduced  lyrics  of  no  small  value,  for  his  verses 
generally  leave  much  to  be  desired.  The  poem 


158  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

which  Marmion  Herbert  writes  on  the  night  when 
Venetia  was  born,  is  particularly  successful  ;  it  is 
not  altogether  unworthy  of  Shelley — certainly  very 
high  praise. 

Finally,  "  Venetia  "  is  a  fine  piece  of  psychologi- 
cal criticism.  The  portraiture  of  the  two  poets  is, 
on  the  whole,  as  spirited  as  it  is  correct ;  even  their 
less  conspicuous  works,  as,  for  example,  Shelley's 
Essays,  are  introduced  with  great  skill,  and  Shelley's 
influence  on  Byron  is  demonstrated  with  much  pen- 
etration. There  is  a  charming  and  truly  Byronic  hu- 
mour in  the  passages  where  Byron  acknowledges  his 
plagiarism  from  Shelley,  and  laughingly  confesses 
that  he  did  not  always  quite  understand  what  yet 
appeared  to  him  so  beautiful  that  he  appropriated 
it.  At  the  same  time,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  we 
have  only  a  sketch  of  Shelley,  and  not  the  finer 
physiognomical  features.  Byron  is  a  spirit  with 
whom  Disraeli  feels  on  the  same  level ;  Shelley  was 
too  ethereal  for  him  ;  and  his  portraits  were  nat- 
urally successful  in  proportion  as  he  comprehended 
his  subjects.  There  is  a  conversation  in  "  Venetia  " 
in  which  a  good  old  Tory  bishop  compares  the  two 
men :  "  He  (Cadurcis)  is  of  the  world,  worldly. 
All  his  works,  all  his  conduct,  tend  only  to  astonish 
mankind."  * 

*  "Venetia,"  p.  269. 


" Venetia "  and  "Henrietta  Temple"         159 

There  is  some  truth  in  this,  only  that  a  bit  of 
Byron  is  cut  out  and  made  into  a  whole,  the  bit 
which  Disraeli  has  in  common  with  him.  When 
Lady  Herbert  fears  that  Cadurcis,  who  is  also  cast 
out  from  society,  will  end  like  Herbert,  the  bishop 
answers :  "  He  is  not  prompted  by  any  visionary 
ideas  of  ameliorating  his  species.  The  instinct  of 
self-preservation  will  serve  him  as  ballast."  * 

In  these  words,  which  are  only  given  by  the 
author  as  a  bishop's  narrow  conception  of  Byron, 
we  perceive,  with  a  little  alteration,  a  characteristic 
of  Disraeli  himself.  He  unites  in  himself  the  quali- 
ties which  are  divided  between  his  heroes — the 
visionary  ideas  and  the  making  an  idol  of  self. 
When  writing  this  book,  he  was  inspired  by  the 
great  humanitarian  visions  which  had  pursued  him 
from  West  to  East  and  back.  These  visions  enabled 
him  to  understand  Shelley ;  on  the  other  hand,  he 
was  animated  by  ardent  personal  ambition  and  de- 
sire for  political  power,  and  through  these  qualities 
he  felt  himself  akin  to  Byron.  But  there  was  a  third 
element  in  him,  an  element  which  cannot  be  said  to 
have  belonged  to  either  of  the  great  men  with  whose 
destinies  he  was  occupied ;  this  was  the  instinct  of 
self-preservation,  which  is  incorrectly  ascribed  to 
Cadurcis  by  the  bishop,  for  Byron  was  far  from  pos- 

*  "Venetia,"  p.  269. 


160  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

sessing  this  trait ;  it  has  certainly  always  served  to 
prevent  Disraeli  from  making  shipwreck  on  his  way 
to  port  with  his  day's  work  half  done,  long  and 
stormy  as  the  voyage  may  have  been. 

"  Henrietta  Temple,"  the  other  novel  written  at 
this  time,  has  for  its  second  title,  "  A  Love  Story," 
and  it  is  an  appropriate  one.  In  this  book  the 
author  has  for  once  given  the  reins  to  this  passion 
as  he  knew  and  felt  it.  He  had,  of  course,  treated 
of  it  in  all  his  novels,  for  a  romance  without  love 
is  like  a  goblet  without  wine  ;  but  he  had  not,  before 
writing  "  Henrietta  Temple,"  made  it  the  main  top- 
ic. In  Disraeli's  manner  of  writing  about  women 
and  love,  three  stages  may  be  noticed.  In  his  early 
youth,  in  "  The  Young  Duke,"  he  shows  keen  obser- 
vation and  freshness,  much  insight  and  surpassing 
irony;  in  his  manhood,  he  depicts  the  ardent,  ad- 
miring love  of  two  young  creatures,  and,  strongly 
affected  by  it  himself,  breaks  forth  into  a  song  of 
praise  in  honour  of  Eros ;  in  the  third  stage,  woman 
is  to  him  a  higher,  more  representative  being  than 
man — she  is  the  symbol  of  a  great  idea,  and  he 
describes  her,  and  love  for  her,  in  the  appropriate 
spirit,  that  of  reverent  tenderness.  Thus  Sybil 
represents  the  people  and  the  Church ;  Eva,  in 
"  Tancred,"  Judaism  and  the  East ;  Theodora,  in. 
"  Lothair,"  Italy  and  national  liberty.  But  through 
all  these  stages,  there  runs,  as  the  most  essential 


" Venetia "  and  "Henrietta  Temple"         161 

feature,  a  growing,  thoroughly  English  idealism. 
There  is  in  this  idealism  obviously  something  in- 
born— the  home  of  his  soul  was  rather  the  inspired 
East  of  the  Arab  than  the  luxurious  East  of  Hafiz 
— but  there  was  still  more  that  was  acquired  by 
adaptation  to  his  surroundings.  He  was  not  origin- 
ally wanting  in  sensuous  fancy ;  he  had  a  keen  eye 
for  colour,  betrayed  equally  in  delight  in  the  con- 
trast between  the  hue  of  the  lobster  and  the  white- 
ness of  the  flounder  at  a  fishmonger's,  or  the  play  of 
the  diamonds  on  a  lady's  neck  at  a  ball ;  but  he  had 
not  enough  of  nature  in  him,  he  lived  too  perpet- 
ually in  abstract  plans  and  schemes,  to  be  able  to 
distil  a  beautiful  or  poetic  side  from  sensuous  life. 
He  does  not  once  describe  sensuous  attraction  as 
an  element  in  love,  not  even  as  an  idealist  might 
describe  it,  with  unimpassioned  truthfulness,  far  less 
with  poetical  appreciation  of  this  force  of  nature. 
For  he  desires,  above  all  things,  to  be  read  by  the 
general  public ;  to  be  a  drawing-room  author,  recom- 
mended by  a  mother  to  her  daughter.  He  there- 
fore allows  the  great  naturalistic  movement  in  Eng- 
lish poetry  to  rush  past  him  without  learning  any- 
thing essential  from  it.  He  appropriates  nothing 
of  Wordsworth's  feeling  for  nature,  nothing  of  the 
sensuous  richness  of  Keats,  nothing  of  Byron's 
original  native  force,  which  cast  propriety  to  the 
winds.  The  stages  which  I  have  indicated  in  Dis- 


1 62  Lord  Beacons  field. 

raeli's  treatment  of  love,  are  stages  in  the  progress 
of  a  drawing-room  author,  and  show  rather  his  ten- 
dency to  bring  himself  into  accord  with  the  spirit  of 
the  age  and  English  taste,  than  the  development  of 
talent  independent  of  the  external  world.  This  is 
one  of  the  many  ^instances  of  his  adroitness  in  con- 
forming to  English  manners  ancl  English  notions  of 
propriety,  notwithstanding  that  he  is,  to  a  certain 
extent,  un-English. 

Under  George  IV.  frivolity  was  the  mode  ;  conse- 
quently, in  "  The  Young  Duke,"  Disraeli  touches 
with  a  bolder  and  freer  hand  than  he  ever  did  af- 
terwards the  various  mental  and  other  conditions 
which  result  from  frivolous  or  illegitimate  love. 
The  delineation  of  it  is  clever  and  in  extremely 
good  taste  ;  the  critical  passages  are  passed  over  in 
jest  or  in  a  tragi-comic  style.  Still,  erotic  indiscre- 
tions have  a  place  here,  and  are  not,  as  afterwards, 
systematically  excluded  from  the  life  of  the  hero. 
By  his  subsequent  strictness,  he  has  injured  himself 
as  a  fictitious  writer.  He  had  a  tone  of  delicate 
and  indulgent  irony  in  treating  of  such  phenomena, 
which,  occasionally  introduced,  would  have  had  a 
good  effect  in  the  somewhat  overstrained  pathos  of 
his  later  love  stories.  I  give  a  few  lines  from  the 
scene  in  which  Lady  Aphrodite,  the  duke's  beloved, 
breaks  to  him  her  fears  that  he  is  tired  of  his  rela- 
tions with  her. 


"Venetia"  and  "Henrietta  Temple"         163 

"  Out  dashed  all  those  arguments,  all  those  ap- 
peals, all  those  assertions,  which  they  say  are  usual 
under  these  circumstances.  She  was  a  woman ;  he 
was  a  man.  She  had  staked  her  happiness  on  this 
venture ;  he  had  a  thousand  cards  to  play.  Love, 
and  first  love,  with  her,  as  with  all  women,  was 
everything;  he  and  all  men,  at  the  worst,  had  a 
thousand  resources.  He  might  plunge  into  politics, 
he  might  game,  he  might  fight,  he  might  ruin  him- 
self in  innumerable  ways,  but  she  could  only  ruin 
herself  in  one.  Miserable  woman  !  Miserable  sex  ! 
She  had  given  him  her  all.  She  knew  it  was  little ; 
would  she  had  more  !  She  knew  she  was  unworthy 
of  him  ;  would  she  were  not !  She  did  not  ask  him 
to  sacrifice  himself  to  her ;  she  could  not  expect  it ; 
she  did  not  even  desire  it.  Only,  she  thought  he 
ought  to  know  exactly  the  state  of  affairs  and  of 
consequences,  and  that  certainly  if  they  were  parted, 
which  assuredly  they  would  be,  most  decidedly  she 
would  droop  and  fade  and  die."  * 

There  is  a  good  bit  of  psychology  concealed  be- 
neath the  irony  of  this  description. 

In  "  Henrietta  Temple,"  love  is  treated  in  a  to- 
tally different  style. "  The  praises  of  love  are  sung, 
its  omnipotence  is  gravely  described,  and  it  is 
young,  innocent  love,  sure  of  itself.  All  the  diffi- 

*  "  Young  Duke,"  p.  176. 


164  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

culties  with  which  it  has  to  contend  come  from 
without,  and  do  not  finally  separate  the  lovers. 
Captain  Armine,  the  only  son  of  a  noble  but  poor 
family,  is  leading  the  reckless  life  of  a  man  of  fash- 
ion in  Malta,  and  discovers  one  fine  day  that  he  is 
disinherited,  and  that  his  beautiful  young  cousin  is 
heiress  of  all  the  wealth  on  which  he  had  reckoned, 
and  with  which  he  meant  to  pay  his  debts.  He 
comes  to  England,  sees  his  cousin,  finds  her  amia- 
ble, and  has  only  to  show  himself,  handsome  and 
manly  as  he  is,  to  become  the  object  of  her  warm 
affections,  for  she  is  a  girl  who  has  not  seen  much 
of  the  world.  His  parents  and  those  around  him 
urge  him  on ;  the  thought  of  debt  and  dishonour  is 
a  still  stronger  motive,  and  Armine  engages  himself, 
without  a  spark  of  love  for  her,  to  Katherine  Grand- 
ison.  No  sooner  is  he  engaged  than  he  meets  with 
Henrietta  Temple,  a  young  girl  without  fortune, 
whose  beauty  and  charms  captivate  him  at  first 
sight,  and  his  sole  desire  is,  if  possible,  to  win  her 
hand.  In  this  Disraeli  illustrates  the  theory  he  has 
always  held  about  the  origin  of  love,  and  it  entirely 
concurs  with  his  deeply  rooted  prejudice  in  favour 
of  sudden  surprises  and  striking  effects.  He  says  : 
"  There  is  no  love  but  love  at  first  sight.  .  .  .  All 
other  is  the  illegitimate  result  of  observation,  of 
reflection,  of  compromise,  of  comparison,  of  expedi- 
ency." 


"Venetia"  and  "Henrietta  Temple"         165 

In  this  kind  of  love  he  tells  us  we  "  feel  our 
flaunty  ambition  fade  away  like  a  shrivelled  gourd 
before  her  vision  ;  "  fame  seems  to  us  "  a  juggle,  and 
posterity  a  lie."  * 

How  striking  are  these  words  in  a  psychological 
aspect !  In  order  to  give  an  idea  of  the  strength  of 
the  erotic  sentiment,  Disraeli  compares  it  with  the 
strongest  passion  with  which  he  is  acquainted: — am- 
bition, and  allows  love  for  a  moment  to  triumph 
over  it.  And  he  continually  applies  this  standard 
to  it.  In  another  passage  in  "  Henrietta  Temple  " 
he  says,  for  example :  "  Revolutions,  earthquakes, 
the  change  of  governments,  the  fall  of  empires,  are 
to  him  but  childish  games,  distasteful  to  a  manly 
spirit."  f 

The  repeated  assertion  that  the  heart,  when  in 
love,  does  not  beat  for  politics,  betrays  that  Disraeli 
is  here  speaking  from  personal  experience.  And 
"  Henrietta  Temple "  is  altogether  a  book  that 
speaks  from  the  heart.  It  may  be  that  sighs  and 
groans,  superlatives  andfortisstmos,  are  rather  super- 
abundant. It  becomes  the  author  well,  who  is  so 
fond  of  representing  temporary  political  party  ques- 
tions as  the  great  questions  for  the  human  race,  to 
condescend  to  the  common  interests  of  mankind, 
and  not  to  be  above  stenographing  for  us  the  talk 

*  "  Henrietta  Temple,"  p.  78.  f  Ibid.  p.  137. 


1 66  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

of  two  lovers,  or  showing  us  their  tenderly  affection- 
ate letters.  It  is  in  the  courage  exhibited  in  steno- 
graphing the  language  of  love  precisely  as  it  is, 
without  any  dressing  up  by  the  author,  that  the 
originality  of  the  novel  consists.  It  might  have  been 
supposed  that  in  a  "  book  of  love,"  by  a  writer  like 
Disraeli,  we  might  have  been  treated  with  a  mere 
love  of  the  head,  with  pure  admiration  on  the  part 
of  the  young  lady  for  the  intellect  of  her  lover  ;  but 
Disraeli  knows  human  nature  too  well  to  fill  his 
book  with  such  counterfeits.  It  has  warmth  and 
soul,  and  the  intrigue  is  touched  with  the  light,  firm 
hand  of  a  politician. 

Still,  although  it  is  said  to  be  the  strongest  evi- 
dence of  true  love  when  it  makes  a  man  forget  his 
ambitious  schemes,  this  first  symptom  is  never  de- 
scribed as  permanent.  The  lasting  effect  of  love 
upon  the  mind  of  a  man  is,  as  he  represents  it,  and 
as  was  to  be  expected  from  him,  just  the  contrary — 
to  inspire  him  and  spur  him  on  to  action.  He  says 
somewhere  in  "  Henrietta  Temple :  " — 

"  Few  great  men  have  flourished,  who,  were  they 
candid,  would  not  acknowledge  the  vast  advantages 
they  have  experienced  in  the  earlier  years  of  their 
career  from  the  spirit  and  sympathy  of  woman.  It 
is  woman  whose  prescient  admiration  strings  the 
lyre  of  the  desponding  poet  whose  genius  is  after- 
wards to  be  recognized  by  his  race,  and  which  often 


" Venetia "  and  "Henrietta  Temple"         167 

embalms  the  memory  of  the  gentle  mistress  whose 
kindness  solaced  him  in  less  glorious  hours.  How 
many  an  official  portfolio  would  never  have  been 
carried,  had  it  not  been  for  her  sanguine  spirit  and 
assiduous  love !  How  many  a  depressed  and  de- 
spairing advocate  has  clutched  the  Great  Seal,  and 
taken  his  precedence  before  princes,  borne  onward 
by  the  breeze  of  her  inspiring  hope,  and  illumined 
by  the  sunshine  of  her  prophetic  smile  !  A  female 
friend,  amiable,  clever,  and  devoted,  is  a  possession 
more  valuable  than  parks  and  palaces ;  and,  without 
such  a  Muse,  few  men  can  succeed  in  life,  few  be 
content."* 

It  is  entirely  in  agreement  with  this  that,  in  Dis- 
raeli's novels,  the  heroine  has  generally  some  keen 
political  interest,  a  cause  in  which  she  has  faith,  for 
which  she  lives,  which  fires  her  with  ardour,  and 
which  her  lover  is  to  advocate  in  Parliament.  If  the 
question  is  asked  in  Disraeli's  novels :  "  Which  is 
the  happiest  and  proudest  moment  in  a  man's  life?" 
the  answer  will  be :  "  It  is  the  moment  when  he  sur- 
prises his  lady  love  while  reading  the  speech  he 
made  the  day  before  amidst  general  applause  in 
Parliament."  It  is  in  this  situation  that  the  young 
duke  surprises  May  Dacre,  and  Charles  Egremont 
the  enthusiastic  Sybil ;  and  this  situation  may  well 

*  "  Henrietta  Temple,"  p.  173. 


1 68  Lord  Beaconsficld. 

be   said  to  be   the   happiest   moment  for  Disraeli 
himself. 

How  ardently  he  must  have  looked  forward  to 
the  moment  when  this  bliss,  or  at  least  the  possi- 
bility of  it,  should  be  granted  him !  How  near  it 
had  often  seemed,  and  then  had  again  eluded  his 
grasp !  One  more  attempt  must  be  made,  one 
more,  to  cross  that  inhospitable  threshold,  on  the 
other  side  of  which  lay  the  path  to  happiness  and 
power. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   MAIDEN  SPEECH. 

IN  the  year  1837  Disraeli  published  both  "Vene- 
tia"  and  "Henrietta  Temple,"  and  in  July  of  the 
same  year  he  offered  himself  as  a  candidate  for 
Maidstone,  with  Mr.  Wyndham  Lewis,  who  was  of 
the  same  party;  Lewis  was  not  a  man  of  any  talent, 
but  was  very  wealthy,  and  had  contributed  £600  to 
Disraeli's  expenses  when  he  last  offered  himself  as 
a  candidate.  His  address  to  the  electors  is  in  the 
purest  Tory  style,  but  it  is  characteristic  that,  to- 
gether with  the  old  Conservative  expressions  about 
the  glory  of  the  State  Church,  etc.,  there  is  the  most 
vehement  condemnation  of  the  Whigs'  new  Poor 
Law ;  it  is  called  a  crime  against  morality  as  well 
as  a  political  folly ;  indeed,  these  violent  outbreaks 
have  almost  a  socialistic  character.  Disraeli  gives 
as  the  reason  of  his  opposition  that  the  law  was 
based  upon  an  erroneous  conception  of  the  rights  of 
the  people.  The  Whig  legislators  have  acted  on 
the  principle  that  the  support  of  the  poor  is  a  mat- 
ter of  charity.  He  and  the  democratic  Tory  party 
are  of  opinion  that  the  poor  have  a  right  to  support. 
8  169 


170  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

The  land  which  once  belonged  to  monasteries  was 
practically,  if  not  in  name,  the  property  of  the  poor; 
after  the  great  families  had  divided  it  among  them- 
selves it  had  become  the  duty  of  those  families  to 
support  the  poor,  and,  before  the  new  Poor  Law,  it 
was  looked  at  in  this  light.  The  new  law  had  occa- 
sioned a  justifiable  desperation  among  the  poor,  for 
poverty  was  now  punished  by  compulsory  labour,, 
even  on  Sundays. 

The  speaker's  argument  is,  as  will  be  seen,  directed 
against  the  Manchester  conception  of  the  State,  yet 
it  is  not  founded  on  pure  socialism.  The  right  of 
a  man  out  of  work  to  support  is  based  not  on  an 
.abstract  right  to  work,  but  on  his  right  to  share  in 
the  former  property  of  the  Catholic  Church.  But 
while  Disraeli  took  up  the  cause  of  the  lowest  classes 
in  its  social  aspect,  he  left  them  politically  entirely 
in  the  lurch.  He  was  opposed  at  the  election  by 
one  of  the  best  and  most  honourable  men  of  the 
Radical  party,  Colonel  Thompson,  a  friend  of  Ben- 
tham  ;  he  adhered  to  the  demands  which  Disraeli 
formerly  urged,  namely,  secret  voting  (to  protect 
the  political  independence  of  the  poor  and  depend- 
ent), and  the  right  of  the  working  man  to  the  suf- 
frage— claims  which  could  not  be  denied,  and  which 
have  since  been  granted.  Thompson  was  defeated, 
and  Wyndham  Lewis  and  Disraeli  were  elected. 

His   ardent   desire   was   at    length  attained — at- 


The  Maiden  Speech.  171 

tained  after  full  five  years'  effort,  after  five  futile 
attempts  and  four  direct  defeats ;  the  end  was 
reached — he  was  a  member  of  England's  House  of 
Commons. 

The  object  now  was  to  maintain  the  position 
gained  after  so  many  fruitless  assaults. 

William  IV.  had  died  in  June,  1837.  On  the 
2Oth  of  November,  the  new  Parliament  elected  on 
the  accession  of  Queen  Victoria  met  for  a  short 
session,  the  main  purpose  of  which  was  to  vote  a 
civil  list  for  the  young  sovereign.  It  will  be  seen, 
therefore,  that  Disraeli's  Parliamentary  career  coin- 
cides exactly  with  the  reign  of  the  Queen  whose 
personal  confidence  he  has  so  largely  succeeded  in 
gaining,  and  who  was  to  raise  him  to  every  post  of 
honour  and  grant  him  every  distinction  that  heart 
could  wish. 

Disraeli  did  not  allow  many  weeks  to  pass  before 
his  voice  was  heard  for  the  first  time  in  Parliament. 
He  had  promised  O'Connell  that  they  should  meet 
at  Philippi,  and  O'Connell  was  then  one  of  the  most 
influential  members  of  the  House.  The  importance 
of  the  "  maiden  speech,"  as  it  is  called  in  England, 
is  well  known.  From  the  impression  made  by  it  the 
horoscope  of  the  new  member  is  cast :  he  may,  by 
its  means,  become  all  at  once  a  political  magnate ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  it  has  sometimes  happened 
that  speakers  who  have  shone  out  of  Parliament, 


172  Lord  Beaconsficld. 

and  of  whom  great  expectations  have  been  enter- 
tained, have  met  with  so  poor  a  succh  d'estime, 
that  they  have  not  for  a  long  time,  if  ever,  recovered 
themselves.  The  moment,  therefore,  was  a  most 
critical  one  for  Disraeli ;  it  was  one  of  those  in 
which  a  man  feels  that  he  must  succeed,  that  a  de- 
feat this  time  would  count  for  ten  on  any  other 
occasion. 

It  was  on  the  evening  of  the  /th  of  December. 
The  subject  of  discussion  was  the  "  Spottiswoode 
Subscription,"  so  called.  It  was  an  appeal  for  sub- 
scriptions, issued  by  the  Queen's  printer,  to  support 
the  Protestant,  and  oppose  the  Catholic,  elections  in 
Ireland.  Several  members  of  Parliament  had  sub- 
scribed, without  considering  that,  as  future  judges 
of  the  validity  of  the  elections,  they  would  be  at 
once  partisans  and  judges.  Whigs  and  Radicals 
combined  in  a  vehement  attack  on  the  subscription, 
as  a  conspiracy  against  the  religious  and  political 
liberties  of  Ireland.  The  Tories  defended  it  no  less 
vehemently  as  a  weapon  against  the  encroachments 
of  Catholicism,  and  one  of  their  speakers  attacked 
O'Connell  as  the  man  who  drove,  "  in  conjunction 
with  a  set  of  priests,  Irish  voters  to  the  poll,  to  vote 
for  their  god."  * 

O'Connell  replied  in  a  vigorous  and  cutting 
speech. 

*  O'Connor's  "  Life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,"  p.  165. 


The  Maiden  Speech.  173 

When  he  sat  down,  Disraeli  rose.  His  costume 
was  so  unusual,  that  even  this  attracted  all  eyes :  a 
green  coat,  a  waistcoat  covered  with  gold  chains,  a 
black  tie  without  a  collar.  His  personal  appearance 
was  equally  un-English :  a  face  pale  as  death,  coal 
black  eyes,  and  long  black  hair  in  curls.  People 
had  heard  of  him  as  a  charlatan,  and  before  he 
opened  his  lips  they  were  disposed  to  ridicule  and 
laughter.  He  began: 

"  I  hope — I  will  even  venture  to  believe — that  the 
House  will  deign  to  extend  to  me  that  generous  in- 
dulgence rarely  refused  to  one  who  solicits  their  at- 
tention for  the  first  time,  and  for  which,  I  can  say, 
without  the  slightest  affectation,  that  I  have  al- 
ready had  sufficient  experience  of  the  critical  spirit 
which  pervades  this  assembly,  to  feel  that  I  stand 
much  in  need  of  it." 

The  introduction,  even,  was  not  successful.  Here, 
for  the  first  time,  there  were  mocking  cries  of 
"Hear!  hear!"  He  continued  : 

"The  honourable  and  learned  member  for  Dublin 
has  taunted  the  honourable  baronet  the  member 
for  North  Wilts,  with  having  made  a  long,  ram- 
bling, feeble,  wandering,  jumbling  speech.  I  can  as- 
sure the  honourable  and  learned  gentleman  that  I 
have  paid  the  utmost  attention  to  the  remarks 
which  have  fallen  from  him,  and  I  must  say,  with- 
out intending  to  make 'any  reflections  upon  the 


1/4  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

honourable  baronet  by  any  invidious  comparison,  it 
seems  that  the  honourable  and  learned  member  has 
taken  a  hint  of  the  style  and  manner  from  the 
honourable  baronet,  in"  the  oration  which  he  has 
just  addressed  to  the  House ;  for  it  appears  to  me 
that  there  was  scarcely  a  subject  connected  with 
Ireland  that  could  possibly  engage  the  attention  of 
Parliament,  that  he  has  not  introduced  into  his 
oratorical  rhetoric."  * 

Renewed  and  louder  laughter  followed.  This 
dandified  upstart,  then,  of  ambiguous  antecedents, 
wanted,  in  the  very  first  words  he  stammered  out, 
to  pick  a  quarrel  with  the  Irish  national  hero,  who, 
with  his  Herculean  frame,  and  his  hat  over  one  ear, 
was  sitting  opposite  to  his  opponent,  and,  with  the 
broadest  laughter,  was  looking  straight  into  his  face. 
From  this  moment  all  the  Irish  brigade  in  the 
House,  constituting  O'Connell's  not  over  well-be- 
haved body-guard,  resolved  to  leave  no  method  un- 
tried of  putting  the  speaker  out  of  countenance — 
hissing,  whistling,  laughing,  crowing,  loud  talking, 
stamping,  etc.  Disraeli  went  on.  He  argued  that 
the  object  of  the  subscription  was  not  an  attack 
on  the  Catholic  Church,  but  a  defence  against  the 
political  agitation  of  that  Church,  protection  for 
the  Protestant  electors  and  landowners  of  Ireland ; 

*  "Benjamin  Disraeli,  Earl  of  Beaconsfield:  A  Biography, "  vol. 
i.  p.  II. 


The  Maiden  Speech.  175 

things  had  gone  so  far  in  Ireland  that  the  tenants 
of  a  landowner  had  told  him  they  could  not  give 
him  their  votes  because  their  priests  had  forbidden 
it  from  the  altar.  In  the  speech  itself  there  was 
nothing  ridiculous;  but  his  voice  had  an  unusual 
ring,  his  action  was  more  violent  than  happy,  and 
his  hearers  were  prejudiced  against  him.  He  could 
not  conclude  a  single  sentence  without  being  inter- 
rupted by  laughter.  He  paused  in  the  midst  of  his 
speech,  and  said :  "  I  shall  not  trouble  the  House  at 
any  length.  (Hear,  hear,  and  laughter.)  I  do  not 
affect  to  be  insensible  to  the  difficulty  of  my  posi- 
tion. (Renewed  laughter.)  I  am  sure  I  shall  re- 
ceive the  indulgence  of  honourable  gentlemen — 
(continued  laughter,  and  cries  of  "  Question !  ")— 
but  I  can  assure  them,  that  if  they  do  not  wish  to 
hear  me,  I,  without  a  murmur,  will  sit  down." 

He  continued  again  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
the  noise  constantly  increasing.  When  the  tumult 
seemed  the  wildest,  he  said :  "  I  wish  I  really  could 
induce  the  House  to  give  me  five  minutes  more  ;  " 
and  at  the  same  moment  was  interrupted  by  such 
roars  of  laughter  that  he  was  obliged  to  pause  for 
a  few  minutes ;  but  he  took  up  the  thread  again, 
without  losing  his  self-command.  He  had,  unfortu- 
nately, made  a  mistake  ;  he  had  described  himself 
as  the  representative  of  the  younger  members  of 
the  House  ;  and  now  said,  after  the  peals  of  laugh- 


Lord  Beaconsfield. 

ter  which  followed :  "  Then  why  laugh  ?  Why 
not  let  me  enjoy  this  distinction,  at  least  for  one 
night  ?  " 

The  laughter  became  so  loud  and  so  general  that 
he  was  obliged  to  pause  again.  He  continued.  He 
pointed  out  that  the  Whigs,  who  had  threatened  to 
gain  an  overwhelming  majority  at  the  new  election, 
had  lost  in  numbers  ;  that  the  Tory  party,  which 
they  had  said  was  dead  and  buried  so  deep  that 
there  was  no  danger  of  its  resurrection,  had  now 
raised  its  head  as  boldly  as  ever — when  the  inter- 
ruptions again  overpowered  him. 

"  If  honourable  members  think  it  is  fair  to  inter- 
rupt me,  I  will  submit.  I  would  not  act  so  towards 
any  one,  that  is  all  I  can  say  (laughter).  Nothing 
is  so  easy  as  to  laugh."  He  continued,  and  in  a  dif- 
ferent tone,  with  bold  metaphors  and  cutting  sar- 
casms, about  a  Whig  Minister  and  a  Whig  member, 
whom  he  characterized  respectively  as,  "  The  Tity- 
rus  of  the  Treasury  Bench,  and  the  learned  Daphne 
of  Liskeard."  He  reproached  the  Minister  with 
wishing  to  free  Ireland  in  order  to  enslave  England, 
that,  standing  "  secure  on  the  pedestal  of  power, 
he  may  wield  in  one  hand  the  keys  of  St.  Peter, 
and "  * 

He  could  not  get  further ;  so  loud  and  incessant 

*  O'Connor's  "  Life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,"  p.  166. 


The  Maiden  Speech.  177 

were  the  noise  and  laughter  around  him  that  it  was 
impossible  to  finish  the  sentence.  Every  time  he 
tried,  there  was  a  storm  of  bellowing,  noise,  and 
cries  from  every  bench  and  corner  of  the  House, 
and  some  face  glared  at  him  distorted  with  scornful 
laughter.  At  last  he  lost  the  self-possession  which 
he  had  hitherto  so  remarkably  retained,  and,  looking 
straight  into  the  faces  of  some  of  his  jeering  oppo- 
nents, according  to  the  testimony  of  an  eye-witness, 
he  lifted  up  his  hands,  and  said,  with  an  unusually 
loud  and  almost  terrific  voice  :  "  I  am  not  at  all 
surprised,  sir,  at  the  reception  I  have  met  with. 
(Continued  laughter.)  I  have  begun  several  times, 
many  things — (laughter) — and  have  often  succeeded 
at  last.  ("  Question  ! ")  Ay,  sir,  I  will  sit  down 
now,  but  the  time  will  come  when  you  will  hear 
me." 

He  sat  down,  and  the  waves  of  ridicule  closed 
over  him. 

8* 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FIRST  ATTEMPTS  IN   PARLIAMENT. 

RIDENTIBUS  !  Ay,  woe  to  those  who  laugh ! 
They  are  destined  to  be  forgotten  and  to  be  trod- 
den underfoot  of  those  they  laugh  at.  Woe  to  the 
laughers !  that  is,  to  those  to  whom  power,  when  of 
a  novel  sort,  is  always  an  object  of  ridicule,  which 
they  think  to  put  down  by  the  rudest  of  all  methods, 
making  grimaces  at  it.  These  are  they  whom  the 
new  power  most  easily  disposes  of ;  for  among  them, 
among  the  prejudiced  and  little-minded,  every  pow- 
er, when  it  has  risen,  finds  its  most  obsequious  body- 
guard. Those  who  laugh  are  the  same  as  those  who 
cry,  "  Hurrah  ! " — the  crowd  of  followers,  who  be- 
gin by  understanding  nothing,  and  end  by  admiring 
everything,  having  no  judgment  of  their  own. 

Only  a  week  after  his  fiasco,  Disraeli  spoke  the 
second  time  on  a  subject  connected 'with  litera- 
ture, the  rights  of  authors  and  publishers,  concisely, 
clearly,  and  without  interruption.  A  few  months 
later,  he  spoke  again,  shortly,  simply,  and  with  the 
same  result.  By  degrees,  and  by  his  persistent  firm- 
ness, he  gained  a  hearing.  He  spoke  on  questions 

178 


First  Attempts  in  Parliament.  179 

of  minor  importance,  always  as  accurately  and  con- 
cisely as  possible,  never  laid  himself  open  to  attack, 
and  threw  down  no  challenges.  This  went  on  for  a 
year.  In  1839  ^e  began  to  change  his  tactics.  He 
spoke  on  'the  most  important  measures,  made  long 
speeches,  spoke  often,  and  often  provoked  reply,  but 
no  one  laughed.  The  House  had  grown  accustomed 
to  his  appearance,  and  perceived  that  he  was  not  to 
be  put  down  by  inarticulate  brutality. 

Among  his  speeches  there  are  two  that  seem  to 
me  to  be  noteworthy,  as  having  a  psychological  in- 
terest, and  they  are  on  important  questions — his 
speech  on  Lord  John  Russell's  Education  Bill,  and 
the  one  on  the  so-called  National  Petition. 

The  first  measure  was  a  small  affair,  and  I  only 
refer  to  it  because  Disraeli,  by  his  opposition  to  it, 
for  the  first  time  took  up  a  position  in  Parliament  on 
one  of  the  great  fundamental  questions  of  modern 
times — the  relations  between  the  Church,  the  State, 
and  education.  There  were  at  that  time  in  Eng- 
land two  educational  societies — the  one  in  strict 
connection  with  the  Church,  the  other  of  a  more 
liberal  character;  the  teachers  employed  by  the 
latter  might  be  of  any  religious  profession,  and  the 
children  were  instructed  in  other  creeds  than  that 
of  the  State  Church.  This  society  was  accustomed 
to  receive,  as  an  annual  Government  grant,  the  sum 
of  £20,000,  and  Lord  John  Russell  proposed  to 


i8o  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

grant  it  once  for  all.  The  Tory  leaders  raised  a 
violent  opposition,  on  religious  grounds,  to  this  in- 
nocent and  natural  proposition.  Gladstone,  who 
was  then  still  a  Tory,  spoke  strongly  against  it,  and 
said  that  the  State  had  no  right  to  leave  the  one 
true  religion  in  the  lurch,  and  to  allow  true  and 
false  in  education  to  stand  on  the  same  footing. 
The  other  Tory  leaders  were  still  more  absurd  and 
narrow-minded.  Disraeli  opposed  the  Bill ;  as  a 
good  Tory  he  could  hardly  do  otherwise.  But  it 
is  noteworthy  that  at  this  stage  of  his  political 
progress,  he  neglected  to  avail  himself  of  the  op- 
portunity of  taking  a  side  for  or  against  religious  lib- 
erty as  a  political  principle.  He  spoke  against  the 
measure,  on  the  not  very  serious  ground  that  it  was 
opposed  to  the  English  principle  of  self-government 
to  establish  a  sort  of  State  education.  The  reason 
was  all  the  less  appropriate  because  it  came  from  an 
opponent  on  principle  of  the  Manchester  theory,  but 
it  was  obviously  only  employed  to  cover  indecision. 
Disraeli  appears  to  have  felt  himself  embarrassed  at 
that  time  with  some  Radical  reminiscences  about 
the  duty  of  the  State  to  secure  absolute  liberty  of 
conscience,  and  had  not  yet  definitely  formulated  his 
doctrine  of  the  State  Church  as  the  great  guardian 
of  the  Semitic  principle,  which  in  this  capacity  must 
have  the  education  of  the  people  in  her  hands. 
Born  a  dissenter,  and  having  been  formerly  an  ad- 


First  Attempts  in  Parliament.  181 

vocate  of  the  rights  of  the  dissenters,  he  could  not 
possibly  favour  religious  intolerance  as  a  political 
doctrine ;  nor  could  he  sanction  the  principle  that 
the  State  was  of  no  creed,  without  joining  the  ranks 
of  those  who  destroyed  faith  in  the  absolute  supe- 
riority of  his  race  by  opposing  the  ideas  and  doc- 
trines which  have  emanated  from  it,  and  by  which 
it  still  rules  Europe.  There  was  but  one  way  out 
of  this  dilemma,  and  he  was  not  slow  to  take  it. 
He  continued  to  advocate  the  political  equality  of 
certain  dissenters,  but  not  in  virtue  of  what  he 
afterwards  called  the  "  ambiguous  principle  of  reli- 
gious liberty,"  but  in  virtue  of  his  own  peculiar  con- 
ception of  Christianity.  The  Catholics  were  already 
emancipated,  the  Jews  only  were  left,  and  in  order 
to  demand  for  them  equal  rights  with  other  bodies 
it  was  not  necessary  to  take  refuge  in  the  doctrine 
that  the  State  was  of  no  creed ;  he  argued  from  the 
fact  that  the  Jews,  as  worshippers  of  the  Semitic 
principle,  the  English  representative  of  which  was 
the  Anglican  Church,  essentially  belong  to  this 
Church.  Christianity,  according  to  his  convictions, 
was  only  extended  Judaism — Judaism  for  the  mul- 
titude. One  other  class  of  dissenters  was  certainly 
excluded,  those  who  dissented  on  scientific  grounds. 
But  he  never  interested  himself  much  on  their  be- 
half; the  scientific  free-thinkers  were  idealists,  and 
must  take  the  consequences.  So  far  as  he  under- 


1 82  Lord  Bcaconsfield. 

stood  them,  they  represented  the  Aryan  principle, 
and  therefore  they  were  decidedly  opposed  to  him. 
It  was  impossible  to  entrust  education  to  them,  or 
even  to  give  them  an  equal  share  in  it.  The  people 
must  have  a  religion,  and  if  they  were  deprived  of 
the  higher  Asiatic  religion  which  had  been  intro- 
duced, they  would  doubtless  return  all  over  Europe 
to  their  ancient  heathen  worship.  Summa  sum- 
marum,  the  Church  should  keep  education  in  her 
hands,  and  the  professors  of  various  creeds  should 
have  equal  political  rights,  on  a  principle  which 
excluded  religious  liberty. 

The  second  matter  of  importance  on  which  Dis- 
raeli made  himself  heard  in  the  early  part  of  his 
Parliamentary  career,  was  the  National  Petition  of 
the  Chartists.  It  is  usual  to  speak  of  the  Chartists 
as  the  earliest  English  Socialists,  and  the  expression 
is  partly  correct,  in  so  far  as  the  Chartist  rising  was 
based  upon  a  movement  of  a  purely  social  charac- 
ter; but  what  makes  the  term  less  appropriate  is 
that,  first,  the  Chartists  desired  only  purely  political 
reforms,  and  secondly,  their  demands  were  not  in 
any  degree  founded  on  abstract  rational  ideas,  such 
as  the  rights  of  man,  and  the  like,  but  in  true  Eng- 
lish style  they  demanded  changes  in  the  franchise, 
and  in  the  organization  of  the  legislative  body,  as 
ancient  constitutional  rights,  or  rather,  they  de- 
manded the  restoration  of  these  rights. 


First  Attempts  in  Parliament.  183 

Since  the  great  impetus  given  to  manufactures 
by  machinery  had  altogether  altered  the  relations 
of  the  workman  to  his  craft,  to  his  master  and  his 
customers,,  the  working  classes  in  England  felt  a 
profound  dissatisfaction  with  the  state  of  depen- 
dence in  which  they  found  themselves  in  relation  to 
capital ;  and  out  of  this  arose  an  impulse  to  associa- 
tion in  great  unions,  which  were  to  uphold  their 
common  interests.  The  sufferings  of  the  work-peo- 
ple were  all  the  more  severe  because  there  had  not 
yet  been  any  change  in  the  rule  of  laisser-aller  in 
legislation.  No  Act  of  Parliament  had  then  fixed  a 
maximum  of  the  hours  of  labour  in  factories ;  the 
labour  of  women  and  children  was  drawn  into  the 
vortex  of  open  competition,  without  any  limitation 
imposed  in  the  interests  of  humanity;  and  wages 
were,  besides  this,  curtailed  by  the  truck  system,  the 
price  of  goods  being  arbitrarily  fixed  by  the  middle- 
man. About  the  same  time,  the  agitation  for  the 
Reform  Bill,  which  promised  to  confer  new  rights 
on  the  classes  hitherto  excluded  from  political  life, 
set  the  minds  of  the  working  classes  in  a  ferment ; 
but  the  actual  Reform  Bill,  like  the  bourgeois  mon- 
archy in  France,  greatly  disappointed  the  fourth  es- 
tate, and,  as  was  natural,  the  social  discontent  took 
the  form  of  a  political  movement,  whose  first  ob- 
ject was  a  share  in  the  political  privileges  of  the 
favoured  classes.  The  new  Poor  Law  soon  proved 


1 84  Lord  Bcaconsfield. 

to  be  the  only  fruit  of  the  Whig  victory  for  the 
lower  classes,  and  this  fruit  was  a  bitter  one.  The 
previous  method  of  caring  for  the  poor  was  on  a 
patriarchal,  unsystematic  plan  ;  their  education  was 
indeed  but  poorly  provided  for,  but  help  was  not 
sparingly  given  to  those  in  want,  and  unfortunately 
often  to  the  idle  and  to  beggars.  The  new  order  of 
things  was  economical  and  systematic,  but  cold  and 
hard.  It  would  have  been  just  if  extreme  poverty 
were  always  the  well-deserved  punishment  of  idle- 
ness, and  this  almost  appeared  to  have  been  the 
idea  of  the  legislators,  for  the  justifiable  and  well- 
meaning  war  waged  against  poverty  was  almost, 
under  the  new  law,  a  war  against  the  poor  them- 
selves. Relief  was  given  by  taking  them  into  work- 
houses, where  husbands  and  wives,  children  and 
parents,  were  separated  from  each  other.  Even  old 
married  couples  were  separated,  and  only  saw  each 
other  on  Sundays  from  opposite  sides  of  the  chapel, 
and  every  attempt  at  communication  was  punished 
as  a  breach  of  discipline.  Daily  labour  was  hard 
and  unmitigated,  space  and  diet  were  all  carefully 
measured  out,  and  imprisonment  was  frequent,  al- 
though the  workhouse  itself  was  very  like  a  prison. 
Under  these  circumstances,  it  was  not  to  be  won- 
dered at  that  disturbances  often  took  place  among 
the  working  classes  about  the  country — the  agricul- 
tural labourers  revenged  themselves  more  and  more 


First  Attempts  in  Parliament.  185 

frequently  by  setting  fire  to  their  masters'  stacks, 
and  almost  every  day  in  the  year  1839  there  were 
reports  of  the  destruction  of  agricultural  and  other 
machines.  The  agitation  resulted  in  the  drawing 
up  of  a  Radical  project  of  legislation  (the  People's 
Charter),  in  which  universal  suffrage,  vote  by  ballot, 
new  electoral  districts,  annual  Parliaments,  payment 
of  members,  so  that  men  of  the  working  class  might 
also  have  seats  in  the  councils  of  the  nation,  were 
demanded — all  things  which  would  certainly  only 
have  indirectly  remedied  the  oppression  under 
which  the  masses  were  suffering,  but  which,  never- 
theless, appeared  to  them  the  best  means  of  allevi- 
ating their  distress. 

The  leaders  drew  up  a  petition  to  Parliament, 
and  collected  in  a  short  time  no  less  than  1,200,000 
signatures.  The  original  proposition  of  the  chief 
leader  of  the  movement,  Feargus  O'Connor,  was 
that  the  petition  should  be  handed  in  "  by  a  depu- 
tation of  500,000  men  proceeding  in  peaceful  and 
orderly  procession,  each  with  a  musket  over  his 
arm."  *  Instead  of  this,  however,  the  petition  was 
taken  to  Westminster  on  the  I4th  of  June,  1839,  m 
a  less  tumultuous,  if  in  a  less  impressive,  manner,  on 
a  triumphal  car,  accompanied  by  the  representa- 
tives of  the  Trades  Unions  in  solemn  procession.  It 

*  Hitchtnan's  "  Public  Life  of  the  Earl  of  Bcaconsfield,"  p.  156. 


1 86  Lord  Bcaconsficld. 

was  found  necessary  to  construct  a  special  machine 
to  convey  the  enormous  mass  of  parchment  into  the 
House.  It  was  taken  in,  and  remained  lying  on  the 
floor  of  the  House,  the  silent  representative  of  the 
voice  of  1,200,000  men,  during  the  debate  on  the 
cause  of  the  working  people.  The  people  had  no 
hope  of  seeing  all  their  demands  immediately 
granted ;  but  what  they  did  hope,  and  what  the 
Radical  leaders,  who  found  it  every  day  more  diffi- 
cult to  withhold  the  people  from  violence,  had  held 
out  a  prospect  of,  was  at  all  events  a  thorough  and 
searching  discussion  of  the  wishes  of  the  working 
men — a  recognition  of  the  existence  of  this  great 
class  interest,  a  recognition  of  the  social  question, 
as  it  was  soon  afterwards  called,  as  a  problem  the 
solution  of  which  must  inevitably  be  sought.  What 
actually  took  place  had  not  been  thought  possible 
by  any  of  the  delegates  or  leaders  of  the  party. 
The  National  Petition  made  not  the  slightest  im- 
pression. It  was  laid  before  an  empty  House.  But 
a  very  few  of  the  haughty  members  of  Parliament 
had  thought  it  worth  while  to  go  to  Westminster 
to  reject  the  petition.  It  excited  less  interest  than 
the  most  insignificant  party  debate ;  it  was  thrown 
into  the  shade  by  the  passionate  ^interest  excited  in 
those  days  by  a  discussion  about  the  Constitution 
of  Jamaica.  There  was  not  a  single  member  of  the 
Lower  House  absent  from  this  debate,  and  the 


First  Attempts  in  Parliament.         .    187 

strangers'  gallery  was  crowded  to  the  ceiling. 
While  the  discussion  of  the  interests  of  a  few 
wealthy,  half-foreign  planters  in  a  distant  colony 
occupied  universal  attention  for  weeks,  the  de- 
mands of  the  great  Anglo-Saxon  nation,  their  peti- 
tion signed  by  hundreds  of  thousands,  and,  so  to 
speak,  with  the  blood  of  the  people,  occupied  but  a 
few  hours,  and,  after  a  debate  without  any  depth  or 
seriousness,  it  was  rejected.  While  the  tropical 
labour  question,  the  subject  of  the  emancipation  of 
the  slaves  in  Jamaica,  was  warmly  discussed,  the 
domestic  labour  question,  the  grievances  of  the 
white  slaves,  who  were  but  little  better  off,  excited 
no  interest. 

One  member  only  spoke  with  the  sympathy  and 
earnestness  appropriate  to  the  occasion,  and  this 
was  Disraeli.  He  attributed  the  agitating  attitude 
of  the  party  of  the  working  men  to  the  agitation  of 
the  Whigs  when  they  were  working  their  propa- 
ganda for  the  Reform  Bill.  The  Chartists  had  only 
learnt  a  lesson  from  the  Whigs,  and  it  was  therefore 
most  unjust  of  the  Liberals  so  vehemently  to  con- 
demn the  conduct  of  the  Radicals.  Had  not  a 
Whig  orator  in  his  day,  who  was  afterwards  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Cabinet  (Lord  Brougham),  advised  that 
100,000  men  should  go  from  Birmingham  to  London 
to  demand  Reform  ?  He  traced  the  general  discon- 
tent to  the  Reform  Bill  itself ;  he  again  took  occa- 


1 88  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

sion  to  show  that  the  Constitution  of  the  country 
had  formerly  been  based  on  a  more  aristocratic 
principle;  to  a  few  privileged  persons  it  granted 
large  rights,  and  therefore  laid  upon  them  large  ob- 
ligations ;  in  undertaking  the  government  of  the 
masses,  they  also  undertook  to  care  for  their  wel- 
fare. By  the  Reform  Bill,  power  has  been  conferred 
on  a  new  grade  of  society,  and  this  class,  from  its 
character  and  traditions,  felt  no  obligation  to  exer- 
cise social  duties.  What  the  Chartists  complained 
of,  without  exactly  knowing  it,  was  the  government 
of  the  middle  class  —  that  middle  class  by  which 
the  Government  was  chiefly  supported,  and  among 
whom  the  opposition  to  the  agricultural  interests 
had  its  chief  camp.  The  Chartists  were  not  inimical 
to  the  aristocracy  and  the  Corn  Laws.  He  was  not 
ashamed  to  say,  however  much  he  disapproved  of 
the  Charter,  that  he  sympathized  with  the  Chartists. 
At  that  period  it  required  considerable  personal 
and  Parliamentary  courage  to  make  such  a  speech 
as  this,  although  a  sort  of  aristocratic  turn  was  given 
to  it.  Disraeli  knew  how  it  would  be  taken  and 
turned  to  account — it  was  something  like  it  would  be 
to  avow  that  you  sympathized  with  the  Internation- 
alists nowadays — but  with  these  words  he  clearly 
referred  the  proletariat  to  the  Tories.  Attempts 
have  been  made  to  show  that  Disraeli  was  not  sin- 
cere in  the  certainly  very  Platonic  sympathy  he  ex- 


First  Attempts  in  Parliament.  189 

pressed  with  the  Chartists,  from  the  circumstance 
that,  during  the  same  year,  he  voted  against  the  bal- 
lot and  the  shortening  of  Parliaments ;  this  implies 
that,  personally,  he  did  not  see  a  way  out  of  their 
social  difficulties  for  the  working  classes  by  the  at- 
tainment of  political  rights,  while  he  professed  the 
contrary  opinion  ;  and  it  was  for  this  reason  that  he 
spoke  of  sympathy  with  the  Chartists,  though  he 
disapproved  of  the  Charter.  He  explained  clearly 
enough  in  "  Sybil,"  six  years  afterwards,  how  he 
meant  his  words  to  be  understood.  The  sum  and 
substance  of  his  opinions  was  this :  The  common 
people  are  right  in  calling  themselves  oppressed  and 
overreached,  but  they  are  wrong  in  the  assumption 
that  Toryism  is  their  enemy  and  approves  their 
present  distress ;  in  order  to  obtain  relief,  they  must 
learn  that  they  will  get  nothing  from  the  present 
leaders,  and  that  no  one  but  the  heads  of  the  aris- 
tocracy can  or  will  help  them.  The  correctness  of 
this  conviction  of  Disraeli's  may  well  be  doubted, 
but  not  that  it  really  was  his  conviction. 

Immediately  after  the  rejection  of  the  National 
Petition,  violent  popular  outbreaks  took  place  in 
Birmingham  and  other  places.  Disraeli  voted 
against  the  consent  demanded  of,  and  granted  by, 
Government,  to  suppress  them  by  force  of  arms. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"  YOUNG  ENGLAND  "  AND  "  CONINGSBY." 

A  FEW  months  after  Disraeli  took  part  in  the 
Chartist  debate,  he  entered  the  married  state.  In 
his  thirty-fifth  year  he  married  the  widow  of  his  col- 
league, Wyndham  Lewis,  member  for  Maidstone. 
Mrs.  Lewis  was  more  than  ten  years  his  senior,  and 
had  a  large  fortune.  This  apparently  singular  union 
was  well  known  to  be  an  unusually  happy  one. 
They  appear  to  have  adored  each  other.  Disraeli's 
wife  took  an  enthusiastic  interest  in  all  her  hus- 
band's efforts,  intellectual  and  political.  Her  de- 
votion and  strength  of  mind  have  been  illustrated 
by  a  well-known  anecdote.  One  day,  when  setting 
off  to  drive  to  the  House  of  Commons,  two  of  her 
fingers  were  crushed  by  the  door  of  the  carriage, 
but  in  spite  of  intense  pain,  she  concealed  it  from 
her  husband  as  he  sat  by  her  side,  in  order  that  he 
might  not  be  disturbed  in  an  important  speech 
which  he  had  to  make.  She  kept  up,  so  it  is  said, 
till  the  moment  when  he  alighted,  and  then  fell 
fainting  on  the  cushions.  She  seems  not  to  have 

been  a  woman  who  had  had  much  courtly  training, 

190 


"You  ng  Engla  nd "  and  "Con  ings  by. "         191 

but  was  very  enthusiastic,  and  had  great  goodness 
of  heart.  When,  in  the  year  1868,  Disraeli  declined 
a  peerage  for  himself,  he  prayed  the  Queen  to  make 
his  wife  Countess  of  Beaconsfield,  and  she  bore  the 
title  until  her  death  in  1873.  The  present  Lord 
Beaconsfield  accepted  the  rank  and  title  three  years 
afterwards. 

The  first  steps  towards  Disraeli's  Parliamentary 
career  were  taken  ;  his  social  position  was  secured 
by  his  marriage;  he  now  looked  around  him  for 
some  who  shared  his  views,  for  a  party  in  a  more 
restricted  sense,  namely,  for  a  group  of  aristocrats 
within  the  great  Tory  party  who  were  disposed  to 
accept  Toryism  according  to  his  definition  of  it.  A 
distinguished  man  seldom  finds  those  who  share 
his  opinions  among  men  of  his  own  age.  As  the 
views  he  proclaims  are  for  the  future,  he  necessarily 
finds  quite  different  opinions  prevailing  among  his 
contemporaries ;  even  at  the  best,  it  takes  a  long 
time  to  convert  men  who  have  once  formed  their 
opinions,  and  it  is  seldom  of  much  use  to  try,  as  the 
mature  man  is  shy  of  a  party  in  process  of  forma- 
tion. He  who  wants  to  make  a  fresh  start  must 
train  his  followers  himself;  while,  therefore,  in  his 
youth,  he  generally  prefers  the  society  of  those 
older  than  himself,  he  must  now  seek  those  who 
are  much  younger.  They  are  more  ready  to  receive 
impressions,  take  an  idea  more  quickly,  and  are 


192  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

sometimes  ready  to  make  personal  sacrifices  for  the 
views  they  have  adopted. 

Now,  just  at  that  time  there- was  a  little  band  of 
young  aristocrats  fresh  from  the  universities,  who 
were  born  enthusiasts,  romantic  dreamers,  who 
dreamed  of  reviving  the  spirit  of  the  old  noblesse 
of  England  and  France,  and  were  deeply  impressed 
with  the  sentiment  that  noblesse  oblige.  These 
young  men  abhorred  the  superficial  and  brutal 
methods  by  which  the  Reformation,  in  its  day,  had 
been  carried  out.  It  ought  to  have  been  a  mental 
and  moral  regeneration.  All  that  it  had  achieved 
was  to  despoil  the  Church  of  the  treasures  which 
had  been  entrusted  to  her,  and  which,  in  her  best 
days,  she  had  expended  in  the  education  of  the 
people  and  given  to  the  poor,  and  to  give  the  booty 
to  the  Whigs  !  And  they  were  told  by  Disraeli's 
speeches  and  pamphlets  that  the  sole  object  of  the 
Whigs  had  always  been  to  set  up  an  aristocratic 
republic  in  England  on  the  Venetian  model,  in 
which  the  Whigs  could  turn  to  their  own  advantage 
the  power  of  the  Crown  and  the  property  of  the 
people.  These  young  nobles  had  that  hankering 
for  Roman  Catholicism  which  in  every  country  of 
Europe  has  been  a  result  of  romanticism.  The  pres- 
ent, with  its  absence  of  ceremonial,  was  hateful  to 
them,  and  they  longed  for  the  forms  and  cere- 
monies and  artistic  pomp  of  the  earlier  Church. 


" Young  England"  and  "Coningsby"         193 

They  mourned  over  the  coldness  and  indifference 
which  had  arisen  between  the  noble  landowner  and 
his  tenants  ;  over  the  disappearance  of  national  cos- 
tume and  the  old,  simple,  rural  manners.  They 
were  incensed  when  they  saw  the  old  Gothic  abbeys 
in  ruins,  from  which  stone  after  stone  had  been 
dragged  away  to  build  barrack-like  factories.  They 
looked  back  mournfully  to  the  time  when,  instead 
of  the  wretched  race  of  labourers  they  saw  around 
them,  there  was  still  a  yeomanry,  a  class  of  free 
cultivators  of  the  soil,  as  old  as  the  nobility,  and 
holding  a  position  of  equal  legal  security.  Being 
born  at  old  castles,  as  heirs  of  large  estates  and 
property,  they  resolved,  as  far  as  in  them  lay,  to 
change  all  this,  and  to  give  the  Church  and  people 
their  due  ;  their  cause  was  one  and  the  same :  there 
was  a  time  when  the  priests  of  God  were  the  born 
tribunes  of  the  people,  and  when  the  nobleman 
was  born  to  be  the  protector  and  father  of  his  peas- 
antry. 

This  little  group  of  young  men,  about  twenty- 
two  years  of  age,  who,  shortly  after  1840,  acknowl- 
edged Disraeli  as  their  leader,  adopted  the  name 
of  "  Young  England  " — a  name,  of  course,  which 
has  nothing  in  common  with  similar  names  in  the 
present  day.  This  little  aristocratic  clique  does 
not  recall  Mazzini's  "Young  Europe,"  nor  "Young 
Poland,"  nor  "  Young  Germany,"  nor  yet  the  group 
9 


194  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

of  disciples  of  Victor  Hugo,  consisting  of  artists  and 
poets, "  Les  Jeunes  France  /"  for  it  was  neither  revo- 
lutionary in  politics,  like  the  former  associations, 
nor  eager  for  artistic  changes,  like  the  latter ;  it  was 
simply  reactionary,  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  youth. 
Yet  even  this  "  Young  England,"  with  its  not  very 
numerous  members,  had,  so  to  speak,  its  Right  and 
Left.  The  Right  was  represented  by  Lord  John 
Manners,  of  Belvoir  Castle,  son  of  the  Duke  of  Rut- 
land, who  gave  poetic  form  to  the  doctrines  of  the 
new  school,  in  an  extremely  juvenile,  not  to  say 
childish,  collection  of  poems,  called  "  England's 
Trust."  Lord  John  Manners  raves  about  the  time 
when  the  power  of  the  Church  was  equal  to  her  im- 
portance, when  haughty  monarchs  were  compelled 
to  crave  pardon  from  some  poor  man  of  God,  and 
when  the  people  saw  in  the  king  who  bore  the 
sceptre  the  anointed  of  the  Lord.  He  hopes  that  a 
time  will  come  when  Catholics  and  Protestants  will 
reunite  to  form  one  Church ;  he  glorifies  Charles  I. 
as  a  royal  martyr ;  considers  that  the  nobility  alone 
can  save  the  country,  and  that  England's  trade  is  her 
curse  and  misfortune ;  and  with  a  turn  so  harsh  that 
it  is  still  sometimes  quoted  satirically,  he  exclaims : — 


1  In  many  a  hamlet,  yet  uncursed  by  trade, 
Bloom  Faith  and  Love  all  lightly  in  the  shade  : 
Let  wealth  and  commerce,  laws  and  learning  die, 
But  leave  us  still  our  old  nobility  !  " 


"Young  England"  and  "Coningsby"         195 

The  Left  of  the  group  was  represented  by  George 
Sydney  Smythe,  a  highly  gifted  young  man,  son  of 
the  diplomatist,  Lord  Strangford.  He  also  dreamed 
of  a  powerful  aristocracy,  and  a  Church  which 
should  shower  down  alms  on  the  poor ;  he  also 
looked  upon  the  Stuarts  as  noble  martyrs,  and  was 
both  amazed  and  incensed  that,  with  the  example 
of  the  Stuarts  before  their  eyes,  the  great  ones  of 
the  earth  did  not  see  their  natural  allies  in  the 
masses,  and  their  natural  enemies  in  the  rapacious 
minority.  But  his  tendencies  were  far  more  liberal 
than  those  of  his  friend  above  mentioned  ;  he  was 
continually  in  a  state  of  development,  had  no  ambi- 
tion to  prevent  him  from  acknowledging  a  change  in 
his  views,  and  soon  gave  up  his  enthusiasm  for  au- 
thority as  such,  in  favour  of  the  principle  of  per- 
sonal and  independent  research.  He  was  a  zealous 
Free  Trader,  and  afterwards  parted  company  with 
Manners  and  Disraeli.  He  possessed  considerable 
literary  talent,  and  has  left  writings  of  value,  both 
poetical  and  journalistic. 

Such  were  the  noble  and  high-minded  young  men 
who  met  Disraeli  half-way,  and  formed  the  centre 
of  the  little  group  who  united  with  him.  For  the 
mockers,  the  whole  party,  who  never  had  any  in- 
fluence on  the  history  of  England,  was  but  "  a 
clique  of  young  gentlemen  in  white  waistcoats,  who 
wrote  bad  verses."  The  definition,  however,  was 


196  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

not  appropriate,  for  the  little  band  comprised  mis- 
sionaries and  martyrs  to  be  (Whytehead),  and  poets, 
including  Tennyson.  "  Young  England  "  had  vast 
enthusiasm  for  "  Old  England,"  but  to  the  two  old 
political  parties  it  was  in  the  highest  degree  obnox- 
ious. It  wanted  to  change  the  whole  policy  of  the 
country,  and  cherished  the  juvenile  belief  that  Eng- 
land was  to  be  saved  by  its  youth — "  saved  "  was 
the  term,  no  lesser  word  would  suffice. 

It  will  be  seen  that  it  was  precisely  such  followers 
as  these  that  Disraeli  wanted.  He  either  over- 
looked their  romantic  absurdities  or  made  allowance 
for  them  ;  romance  in  itself  struck  an  answering 
chord  in  his  own  mind,  and  their  enthusiasm  for  the 
Church  and  the  people,  their  conception  of  the  obli- 
gations of  the  nobility,  he  could  turn  to  account. 
He  was  attracted  to  these  high-minded  young  men, 
and  felt  himself  young  with  them,  for  the  span  of, 
years  that  he  was  in  advance  of  them  had  not  in 
the  least  diminished  his  vigour.  He  had  always  felt 
that  he  had  a  far  larger  fund  of  youthful  strength 
than  the  average  of  men.  It  was  part  of  his  pride 
in  his  race  and  family.  He  mentions  with  satisfac- 
tion, somewhere  in  his  writings,  that  his  grand- 
father attained  the  age  of  ninety,  and  though 
obliged  to  confess  that  his  father  only  lived  to 
be  eighty-two,  he  softens  down  the  fact  by  stating 
that  this  comparatively  early  death  was  not  caused 


"Young  England"  and  "Coningsby"         197 

by  decay,  but  was  due  to  an  attack  of  a  virulent 
epidemic,  which  desolated  the  neighbourhood,  and 
snapped  the  thread  of  the  old  man's  life.  I  remem- 
ber also  that  Disraeli  said  (during  the  controversy 
with  the  Globe  about  his  political  consistency),  when 
thirty-one  years  of  age  :  "  My  letter  to  Lord  Lynd- 
hurst,  just  published,  to  which  you  allude,  contains 
the  opinions  with  which  I  entered  political  life  four 
years  ago ;  opinions  which  I  adopted  when  the 
party  I  opposed  appeared  likely  to  enjoy  power  for 
half  a  century ;  opinions  which,  I  hope,  half  a  cen- 
tury hence,  I  may  still  profess."  * 

No  one  says  such  things  unless  he  looks  forward 
to  prolonged  youth  and  long  life.  According  to  his 
ideas,  therefore,  he  was  not  guilty  of  any  anachro- 
nism in  placing  himself  at  the  head  of  "  Young 
England  "  when  nearly  forty  years  of  age.  • 

The  ascendancy  which  the  clever  parvenu  gained 
over  the  scions  of  ancient  noble  families  was  by  no 
means  agreeable  to  their  parents  and  friends.  A 
letter  from  Lord  John  Manners's  father  to  the  father 
of  George  Smythe,  in  De  Fonblanque's  "  Memoirs 
of  the  Strangford  Family,"  bears  eloquent  testi- 
mony to  this.  The  Duke  of  Rutland  wrote  to  Lord 
Strangford  as  follows  : — 

"  I  lament  as  much  as  you  can  do  the  influence 

*  "  Benjamin  Disraeli  :  A  Literary  and  Political  Biography,"  p.  631. 


198  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

• 
which  Mr.  Disraeli  has  acquired  over  several  young 

British  senators,  and  over  your  son  and  mine  espe- 
cially. I  do  not  know  Mr.  Disraeli  by  sight,  but  I 
have  respect  only  for  his  talents,  which  I  think  he 
sadly  misuses.  It  is  grievous  that  two  young  men 
such  as  John  and  Mr.  Smythe  should  be  led  by  one 
of  whose  integrity  of  purpose  I  have  an  opinion 
similar  to  your  own,  though  I  can  judge  only  by  his 
public  career.  The  admirable  character  of  our  sons 
only  makes  them  the  more  assailable  by  the  arts  of 
a  designing  person."* 

It  will  be  readily  understood  that  the  sons  saw 
with  very  different  eyes  from  their  fathers,  when  it 
is  considered  how  these  young  men,  just  fresh  from 
college,  must  have  been  impressed  with  Disraeli's 
superiority.  He  had  been  eagerly  prosecuting  his- 
torical-political studies  for  years  ;  he  had  long  been 
a  practical  politician  ;  he  had  poetic  faculty  enough 
to  follow  the  highest  flights  of  romance,  or,  more 
correctly  speaking,  to  lead  them  ;  and  he  had  a 
ready-made  political  system  to  offer  them  which 
suited  their  dreams,  as  far  as  dreams  and  system 
could  anyhow  agree.  They  admired  his  coolness, 
his  acquired  repose,  his  art  of  characterizing  a  man 
or  a  cause  by  some  telling  phrase,  and  they  listened 
with  devout  attention  to  his  mystic  talk  about  the 

*  O'Connor's  "'Life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,"  p.  222. 


"Young  England"  and  "Coningsby"         199 

great  advantages  possessed  by  the  race  to  which  he 
belonged — the  only  race  to  which  God  had  ever 
spoken  or  had  ever  made  the  mediator  between 
Himself  and  the  world.  They  heard  with  astonish- 
ment that  his  pedigree  was  as  good  and  as  old  as 
theirs.  These  Young  Englanders  had  the  beauty, 
the  finished  education,  the  teachableness  and  en- 
thusiasm of  the  ancient  Hellenic  youth,  and  Disraeli 
sat  in  their  .midst  at  Belvoir  Castle,  or  strolled  with 
them  in  the  park  at  Deepdene,  and  expounded  to 
them  the  significance  of  race,  the  origin  of  religions, 
the  long-distorted  truths  of  history,  and  the  only 
principles  which  could  guide  politics  aright,  in  the 
animated  and  pregnant  discourse  of  which  he  was 
master. 

It  was  in  these  conversations  that  the  work  of 
Disraeli's  which  had  the  greatest  success  originated, 
and  it  marked  an  epoch  in  his  life,  for  it  was  from 
its  publication  that  the  estimation  of  his  impor- 
tance, both  political  and  literary,  by  the  larger  pub- 
lic, may  be  dated.  This  was  "  Coningsby,  or  The 
New  Generation." 

The  purpose  of  the  novel,  which  appeared  in  May, 
1844,  with  a  dedication  to  a  member  of  "Young 
England,"  Henry  Hope,  of  Deepdene,  was  to  assert 
the  right  of  a  select  Tory  party  to  be  both  a  popu- 
lar and  a  national  party,  as  well  as  to  serve  as  a  pro- 
gramme to  the  clique,  who  here  boldly  appeared 


20O  Lord  B  eaconsfield. 

under  the  name  of  the  "  New  Generation."  Dis- 
raeli's experience  with  his  "Vindication  of  the 
English  Constitution  "  had  convinced  him  of  the  im- 
possibility of  making  abstract  political  essays  a  pro- 
paganda for  his  ideas  among  general  readers ;  he  re- 
solved, therefore,  to  harness  his  talents  as  a  novelist 
to  these  ideas,  in  order  to  open  a  wider  sphere  for 
them.  The  result  was  a  novel  without  any  artistic 
form,  whose  pages  were  permeated  by.political  dis- 
cussions. Still,  it  was  a  work  which,  in  spite  of  its 
medley  of  politico-historic  reflections  and  fictitious 
incidents,  was  interesting  without  producing  excite- 
ment, and  deserved  success  from  the  excellent  draw- 
ing of  the  chief  characters,  no  less  than  from  its  spir- 
ited paradoxes.  Three  large  editions  were  called 
for  in  three  months;  50,000  copies  were  sold  in 
America.  Five  "  Keys,"  a  parody  in  three  vol- 
umes, and  a  large  number  of  critical  articles,  still 
further  attested  the  author's  great  success. 

The  book  at  once  arrested  the  reader  by  its  im- 
partiality ;  Tories  and  Whigs  were  assailed  by  the 
same  merciless  satire.  Punch  had  a  picture  of  the 
author  as  the  infant  Hercules,  who  had  strangled 
two  venomous  serpents  in  his  hands,  the  one  having 
the  word  "  Tory,"  the  other  "  Whig,"  on  its  belly. 
The  audacity  which  the  sketch  caricatured  could 
not  fail  to  excite  curiosity.  The  treatment  which 
the  Whigs  received  in  the  novel  does  not  need  any 


"Young  England"  and  "Coningsby"        201 

long  description.  On  the  third  page  we  meet  with 
the  expressions  about  the  "  Venetian  "  party,  with 
which  we  are  so  well  acquainted ;  about  the  attempts 
of  a  rapacious  nobility  to  degrade  the  sovereign  of 
the  people  to  the  position  of  a  doge  ruled  by  mag- 
nates ;  and  about  the  infringement  of  the  ancient 
Constitution  of  England  since  1832,  for  the  Lower 
House  has  been  treated  officially  as  the  House  of 
the  people,  instead  of  as  the  representative  of  a  third 
estate,  with  certain  privileges,  which  is  in  principle 
identical  with  universal  suffrage,  etc.  But  the  Tory 
party  comes  no  better  off.  The  author  goes  back 
to  the  Liverpool  administration,  and  accuses  it  of 
either  acting  on  no  principle  at  all,  or  on  principles 
diametrically  opposed  to  those  on  which  the  great 
Tory  leaders  of  former  times  acted.  He  asserts 
that  the  members  of  it  were  utterly  destitute  of 
the  "divine"  faculties  which  a  statesman  ought 
to  possess  ;  they  were  neither  orators,  thinkers,  nor 
observers ;  they  knew  no  more  of  the  actual  circum- 
stances of  the  country  than  a  savage  does  of  an  ap- 
proaching eclipse.  Ignorant  of  "  every  principle  of 
every  branch  of  political  science,"  they  extolled 
themselves  as  practical  men,  but  in  their  language  a 
practical  man  was  one  "  who  practised  the  follies  of 
his  predecessors."  On'Lord  Castlereagh,  Lord  Sid- 
mouth,  and  the  "  arch  mediocrity  "  Lord  Liverpool, 
a  condemnation  is  pronounced,  not  less  contemptu- 


2O2  Lord  Beacons  fie  Id. 

ous  than  that  of  the  great  poets  who  passed  judg- 
ment on  them  and  for  ever  branded  them  with  con- 
tempt. 

The  turn  then  comes  of  the  contemporaneous 
Tory  nobility  of  the  old  school.  They  are  repre- 
sented in  "  Coningsby  "  by  Lord  Monmouth,  grand- 
father of  the  hero,  who,  tyrannical  and  epicurean 
as  a  little  German  sovereign  of  the  olden  time,  lives 
exclusively  for  pleasure,  surrounded  by  a  -court  of 
admiring  millionaires  and  paid  parasites.  Lord 
Monmouth  is  a  cautious,  hard  man,  who  hates  feel- 
ings and  detests  a  scene  ;  he  does  not  like  to  hear 
of  any  one  being  ill  or  dead  ;  he  wants  to  be  amused 
at  all  hazards,  and,  above  all,  to  do  just  what  he 
pleases,  in  a  quiet  way,  without  objection  or  remon- 
strance. His  one  political  aim  is  to  obtain  a  ducal 
coronet.  He  has  in  his  service  a  factotum  of  the 
name  of  Rigby,  a  politician,  journalist,  and  member 
of  Parliament,  who  obsequiously  executes  all  his 
lordship's  behests,  even  so  far  as  to  inform  an  Ital- 
ian princess,  who  has  been  his  mistress  for  years 
and  lives  in  his  house,  that  he  intends  to  dismiss  her 
in  order  to  marry  her  step-daughter.  Neverthe- 
less, with  all  his  severity  and  wickedness,  Lord 
Monmouth  possesses  a  certain  dignity  conferred  by 
consciousness  of  power,  and  always  maintains  a 
faultless  bearing  in  the  Louis  Quatorze  style. 

But  the  novelist's  impartiality  does  not  end  here. 


"Young  England"  and  "Coningsby"         203 

With  a  surprising  sense  of  justice,  he  confronts  Lord 
Monmouth  with  a  representative  of  the  aspiring 
middle  class,  Millbank,  a  manufacturer,  who  resem- 
bles the  lord  only  in  his  resolute  will,  but  in  every 
other  respect  is  his  antipodes,  upright  and  down- 
right, industrious  and  benevolent,  and  possessed  by 
a  glowing  hatred  of  the  ruling  class  of  drones.  On 
personal  grounds  also  he  is  the  bitter  enemy  of 
Lord  Monmouth. 

The  lord  has  sent  his  orphan  grandson,  and  the 
manufacturer  his  son,  to  Eton,  the  training-ground 
of  the  "  New  Generation."  Here  we  watch  them  as 
they  are  growing  up  about  the  time  of  the  Reform 
Bill,  at  their  lessons,  their  discussions,  and  their 
sports ;  we  see  Young  England  in  the  bud.  They 
are  all  but  one  sons  of  noble  families — Coningsby, 
perhaps,  intended  for  the  young  George  Smythe ; 
Henry  Sydney  for  Lord  John  Manners  ;  and  several 
others.  Oswald  Millbank,  the  son  of  the  manufac- 
turer, is  the  only  son  of  a  commoner  in  the  school ; 
he  has  long  felt  an  enthusiastic  admiration  for  the 
circle  of  young  nobles,  and  from  the  day  when  Con- 
ingsby saves  him  from  drowning,  at  the  risk  of  his 
own  life,  he  is  his  sworn  friend.  By  degrees,  as  the 
lads  grow  older,  they  begin  to  be  politicians,  and 
their  natural  instincts  lead  them  to  some  great  po- 
litical truths,  which,  in  the  year  1835,  "  were  at  the 
bottom  of  every  (Eton)  boy's  heart,  but  nowhere 


204  Lord  Bcaconsfield. 

else  " — if  not  in  a  brochure  on  the  British  Constitu- 
tion, which  the  author's  modesty  forbids  him  to 
name.  Coningsby's  talents  make  him  the  born 
leader  of  these  boys.  When  he  leaves  school  we 
are  told,  in  the  description  of  him,  that  he  is  "  not  a 
stranger  to  the  stirring  impulses  of  high  ambition," 
but  the  world  has  hitherto  been  a  world  of  books  to 
him.  He  is  attached  to  his  young  friends,  but  as  he 
has  himself  formed  their  opinions  and  guided  their 
thoughts,  they  cannot  be  to  him  what  he  has  been 
to  them  ;  he  longs  to  meet  with  a  mind  equal  or 
superior  to  his  own. 

While  he  is  in  this  frame  of  mind,  he  seeks  shelter 
one  day  from  the  storm  in  the  public  room  of  an 
inn,  and  some  one  comes  galloping  on  his  Arab 
steed  through  the  wind  and  rain  to  the  same  place. 
It  was  a  stranger,  perhaps  ten  years  older  than  Con- 
ingsby,  pale,  with  thoughtful  brow  and  dark  eyes 
beaming  with  rare  intelligence — Sidonia  the  Jew, 
with  the  wealth  of  a  Rothschild,  and  the  reputation 
of  a  Montefiore  among  his  brethren  in  the  faith  in 
East  and  West,  a  Disraeli  in  wit,  pride  of  race,  cool- 
headedness,  and  political  insight.  He  differs  only 
from  the  author  of  the  novel  in  that,  being  still  of 
the  Jewish  faith,  he  is  excluded  from  taking  part  in 
the  public  life  of  England,  and  is  a  striking  instance 
of  the  forces  which  she  fails  to  avail  herself  of 
through  her  foolish  intolerance.  Coningsby  and 


"Young  England"  and  "Coningsby"         205 

Sidonia  fall  into  conversation  ;  the  young  noble  ex- 
presses his  desire  to  travel,  to  visit  the  classic  sites, 
especially  Athens.  "  The  age  of  ruins  is  past,"  says 
Sidonia,  and  he  directs  attention  from  Athens  to 
Manchester.  Sidonia  is  not  one  of  those  who  think 
that  young  men  of  genius  require  experience  in 
order  to  perform  great  things.  He  allows  that,  as 
a  general  rule,  "  youth  is  a  blunder,  manhood  a 
struggle,  old  age  a  regret ; "  but  there  is  another 
law  for  genius.  He  mentions  many  great  men  who 
have  attained  world-wide  fame,  although  they  died 
between  thirty  and  forty,  and  concludes  with  charg- 
ing Coningsby  to  nurture  his  mind  with  great 
thoughts,  for  "  to  believe  in  the  heroic  makes 
heroes." 

In  these  phrases  the  author's  conviction  may  be 
traced,  that  highly  gifted  youth  has  both  the  right 
and  the  power  to  effect  a  thorough  reform  in  the 
public  spirit  of  a  nation,  and  this  was  obviously  the 
conviction  which  kept  the  little  band  together. 

After  the  meeting  with  Sidonia,  Coningsby  feels 
as  we  do  when  we  have  closed  a  book  from  which 
our  minds  have  received  a  powerful  impulse.  He 
goes  to  Manchester,  makes  acquaintance  with  the 
condition  of  the  working  classes,  and  sees  for  the 
first  time, -not  without  interest,  Oswald  Millbank's 
beautiful  sister.  From  the  elder  Millbank  he  hears 
opinions  about  the  aristocracy  which  astonish  and 


206  Lord  Bcaconsficld. 

instruct  him.  He  appeals  to  their  ancient  line- 
age. 

"  Ancient  lineage  !  "  said  Mr.  Millbank.  "  I  never 
heard  of  a  peer  with  an  ancient  lineage.  The  real 
old  families  of  this  country  are  to  be  found  among 
the  peasantry.  ...  I  know  of  some  Norman  gen- 
tlemen whose  fathers  undoubtedly  came  over  with 
the  Conqueror.  But  a  peer  with  an  ancient  lineage 
is  to  me  quite  a  novelty,  .  .  .  the  Wars  of  the 
Roses  freed  us  from  those  gentlemen.  I  take  it 
after  the  battle  of  Tewkesbury  a  Norman  baron 
was  almost  as  rare  a  being  in  England  as  a  wolf  is 
now." 

"  I  have  always  understood,"  said  Coningsby, 
"  that  our  peerage  was  the  finest  in  Europe." 

"From  themselves,"  said  Millbank,  "and  the 
heralds  they -pay  to  paint  their  carriages.  But  I  go 
to  facts.  When  Henry  VII.  called  his  first  Parlia- 
ment, there  were  only  twenty-nine  temporal  peers, 
.  .  .  and  of  these  not  five  remain.  .  .  .  We  owe 
the  English  peerage  to  three  sources:  the  spoliation 
of  the  Church  ;  the  open  and  flagrant  sale  of  its 
honours  by  the  elder  Stuarts ;  and  the  borough- 
mongering  of  our  own  times."  * 

The  family  enmity  between  the  houses  of  Mon- 
mouth  and  Millbank  is  a  bar  to  Coningsby's  union 

*  "  Coningsby,"  p.  169. 


"Young  England"  and  "Coningsby"        207 

with  Miss  Millbank.  In  Paris,  where  he  receives 
new  impressions,  he  sees  her  again,  but  gives  up  the 
hope  of  winning  her,  believing  that  she  loves  Sido- 
nia.  When  again  in  England,  he  discovers  his  mis- 
take. But  now  a  fresh  obstacle  arises :  he  positively 
refuses  to  act  in  political  matters  according  to  his 
grandfather's  wishes,  and  openly  avows  that  he 
means  to  act  on  principle,  and  on  heroic  principles 
too — for  this  his  lordship  has  no  comprehension — 
and  thus  Coningsby  forfeits  forever  the  favour  of 
the  man  on  whom  his  future  depends.  When  Lord 
Monmouth  dies,  and  his  will  is  opened,  it  is  found 
that  he  has  left  his  enormous  fortune  to  a  poor 
young  girl,  his  illegitimate  child  by  a  French  ac- 
tress, and  has  only  left  Coningsby  £10,000 — a  sum 
which,  in  the  case  of  Disraeli's  heroes,  means  pov- 
erty and  utter  destitution.  Sidonia  comforts  Con- 
ingsby in  his  distress  by  representing  to  him  that, 
with  youth,  health,  and  his  knowledge  and  abilities, 
and  his  love  of  pleasure  long  ago  satisfied,  he  had 
no  reason  whatever  to  give  up  hope  of  a  successful 
future.  Just  like  Count  Alcibiades  de  Mirabel  in 
"  Henrietta  Temple,"  he  expounds  the  true  view  of 
life,  that  happiness  does  not  consist  in  certain  pos- 
sessions, but  in  the  conscious  enjoyment  of  one's 
own  personality,  and  that  so  long  as  existence  itself 
is  a  source  of  pleasure,  nothing  is  lost.  Coningsby 
rouses  himself,  sets  to  work,  makes  a  name,  wins 


208  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

Miss  Millbank,  and  moreover — this  is  inevitable 
with  Disraeli — is  the  heir  of  the  young  French  girl, 
who  dies  of  consumption,  and  leaves  him  all  her 
property,  for  in  all  humility  she  has  always  loved  him. 

In  spite  of  its  nine  books,  there  is  no  action  in 
the  novel.  The  gist  of  it  all  is  that  Sidonia  edu- 
cates Coningsby,  and  Coningsby  the  rising  genera- 
tion. By  the  end  of  the  book,  he  is  ready  to  grap- 
ple with  the  older  generation,  and  to  enter  upon 
a  contest,  for  which  his  victory  over  the  political 
intriguer,  Rigby,  at  an  election  is  the  first  good 
omen.  The  novelist  closes  his  work  with  the  follow- 
ing query:  —  "They  (Coningsby  and  his  friends) 
stand  now  on  the  threshold  of  public  life.  What 
will  be  their  fate?  Will  they  maintain  the  great 
truths  which  in  study  and  solitude  they  have  em- 
braced? Or  will  their  courage  exhaust  itself  in  the 
struggle — their  enthusiasm  evaporate  before  hollow- 
hearted  ridicule?  Or  will  they  remain  brave,  single, 
and  true,  .  .  .  and  restore  the  happiness  of  their 
country  by  believing  in  their  own  energies  and  dar- 
ing to  be  great?"  *  Of  course,  the  novel  is  intend- 
ed to  compel  the  reader  to  answer  the  question  in 
the  affirmative. 

The  plot  of  the  book  is  so  unimportant  because 
nothing  turns  upon  it,  but  as  a  compensation  there 

*  "Coningsby,"  p.  477. 


"Young  England"  and  "Coningsby"         209 

is  a  whole  gallery  of  portraits.  Some  of  them  are 
mere  sketches,  for  in  this  instance,  as  in  general, 
Disraeli  has  a  real  person  in  his  mind,  and  hopes 
that  the  public  will  recognize  him,  and  be  able  to 
fill  up  the  outline ;  but  the  most  important  charac- 
ters are  drawn  with  great  power  and  consistency. 
A  vivid  idea  may  be  gained,  from  the  perusal  of 
this  book,  of  the  lives  and  opinions  of  the  English 
nobles  between  1830  and  1840.  Disraeli  is  generally 
considered  to  flatter  the  aristocracy,  and  there  is 
this  much  of  truth  in  it — he  has  now  and  then 
abused  his  talents  as  an  author  by  flattering  some 
individual  whose  favour  he  desired  to  gain;  but 
apart  from  this,  it  may  be  said  that  few  authors 
have  made  the  political  and  social  immorality  of 
the  nobility  the  subject  of  keener  satire.  Old  Lord 
Monmouth  is  drawn  with  a  distinctness  that  makes 
him  a  permanent  type;  it  is  all  carried  out  to  his 
last  breath,  and  with  perfect  coolness,  not  with  the 
moral  indignation  which  Dickens  and  Thackeray 
scarcely  know  how  to  restrain,  superior  as  they  may 
be  as  novelists  to  Disraeli. 

Sidonia  is  the  chief  character  in  the  book,  and 
Disraeli's  liking  for  him  has  made  him  into  a  genu- 
ine hero  of  romance.  He  knows  everybody  and 
everything,  can  do  everything,  goes  through  the 
world  invulnerable  as  a  god,  does  not  reciprocate 
the  sentiments  he  awakens,  is  indifferent  to  praise  or 


2io  Lord  Bcaconsfield. 

blame,  and  wrapped  up  in  his  pride  of  race  like  a 
Spanish  grandee  in  his  mantle.  The  part  he  plays 
is  to  humble  and  instruct  the  nobility  around  him. 
Sidonia's  family  comes  from  Aragon  ;  among  his 
ancestors,  who  were  all  secretly  Jews,  there  was  an 
Archbishop  of  Toledo  and  a  Grand  Inquisitor.  He 
has  an  unparalleled  genius  for  business,  and  is  the 
head  of  a  gigantic  banking  concern,  makes  millions 
upon  millions  by  his  profound  insight  into  political 
.combinations,  and  establishes  branches  of  his  house 
in  every  city  of  importance  in  Europe.  Not  that  he 
has  any  passion  for  business  or  money — he  is  too 
cool-headed  for  that,  but  as  he  is  shut  out  by  his 
religion  from  the  only  career  which  appears  to  him 
worth  following,  he  occupies  himself  with  mercan- 
tile transactions,  study,  and  meditation.  In  the 
description  of  him  it  is  said :  "  He  could  please ;  he 
could  do  more — he  could  astonish.  He  could  throw 
out  a  careless  observation,  which  would  make  the 
oldest  diplomatist  start ;  a  winged  word  that  gained 
him  the  consideration,  sometimes  the  confidence,  of 
sovereigns.  When  he  had  fathomed  the  intelligence 
which  governs  Europe,  and  which  can  only  be  done 
by  personal  acquaintance,  he  returned  to  this  coun- 
try."* As  will  be  perceived,  Disraeli's  ideal  is 
grafted  on  a  Rothschild. 

*  "  Coningsby,"  p.  220. 


"Young  England"  and  "Coningsby"        211 

Sidonia  does  not  trouble  himself  much  about  po- 
litical forms.  He  regards  the  political  constitution 
as  a  machine,  the  motive  power  of  which  is  the 
national  character.  So  long  as  the  health  and 
strength  of  the  national  character  is  maintained, 
the  State  may  be  strong,  even  with  imperfect  politi- 
cal institutions  ;  but  if  it  fall  into  decay,  no  political 
institutions  can  arrest  its  downfall.  But  national- 
ity is  to  him  only  an  intermediate  idea;  national- 
ity is  based  upon  race,  for  without  the  impress  of 
race,  nationality  is  inconceivable  and  meaningless. 
His  faith  in  race  concurs  with  his  conviction  of  the 
overwhelming  influence  of  individual  character  ;  for 
it  is  only  as  a  personification  of  the  race  that  the 
individual  appears  to  him  to  be  great. 

This  indifference  to  political  forms  prepares  the 
way  in  Sidonia's  mind  for  the  transition  to  religious 
and  political  absolutism.  "  Man  is  made  to  adore 
and  to  obey"  is  one  of  his  favourite  axioms,  and  it 
necessarily  implies  that  there  must  be  personages 
made  to  be  adored  and  obeyed. 

Sidonia  is  of  opinion  that  a  Parliament  does  not 
offer  greater  guarantees  against  injustice  and  arbi- 
trary acts  than  an  absolute  king,  and  that  "  public 
opinion  " — this  abstraction  worshipped  as  a  divinity 
in  modern  times,  which  Lothar  Buchcr  once  aptly 
compared  with  the  Nemesis  of  the  ancients — would 
exercise  the  same  control  over  the  sovereign  as  over 


212  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

Parliament.  His  sympathy  with  enlightened  abso- 
lutism is  summed  up  in  the  following  words : — "  In 
an  enlightened  age,  the  monarch  on  the  throne,  free 
from  the  vulgar  prejudices  and  the  corrupt  interests 
of  the  subject,  becomes  again  divine !  "  * 

These  theories  take  exceedingly  with  his  young 
disciples,  and  we  find  them  repeating  them  almost 
word  for  word.  Coningsby  laments  over  an  evil 
age,  which  has  turned  "  anointed  kings  into  chief 
magistrates ; "  changed  "  estates  of  the  realm  into 
Parliaments  of  virtual  representation  ;  "  and  trans- 
formed "  holy  Church  into  a  national  establish- 
ment." f  He  grieves  over  the  power  which  the 
Lower  House  has  obtained  through  the  unfavoura- 
ble times !  "  The  House  of  Commons  is  the  house 
of  a  few ;  the  sovereign  is  the  sovereign  of  all.  The 
proper  leader  of  the  people  is  the  individual  who 
sits  upon  the  throne."^: 

That  very  Young  England,  just  fresh  from  school, 
should  entertain  these  ultra-romantic  notions  is  not 
surprising.  But  it  is  more  remarkable  that  Sidonia- 
Disraeli  should  confess  to  and  sanction  them  ;  for 
even  in  the  "  Vindication  of  the  English  Consti- 
tution," monarchical  opinions  were  not  advanced  in 
so  repulsive  a  form  as  this.  The  author  of  "  Con- 
ingsby "  was,  however,  too  ambitious  a  man  not  to 

*  "Coningsby,"  p.  303.          f  Ibid.  p.  359.          \  Ibid.  p.  345. 


"Young  England"  and  "Coningsby"        213 

meet  the  views  of  the  younger  generation  on  this 
point.  Utterances  like  these  about  the  power  due 
to  a  sovereign  always  reach  the  right  address ;  a 
good  word  finds  a  good  place.  The  perpetual  flat- 
tery of  crowned  heads  is  a  feature  which  pervades 
all  Disraeli's  writings.  He  began  it  in  "  Vivian 
Grey,"  by  complimenting  George  IV.  on  his  dignity, 
his  perfect  and  eloquent  art  of  bowing.  In  "  The 
Young  Duke  "  he  again  extolled  the  extraordinary 
amiability  and  sparkling  wit  of  this  king,  whom, 
after  his  death,  he  ridiculed  as  a  "  worn-out  volup- 
tuary, who  desired  but  one  thing  of  his  Ministers, 
peace  and  quiet."  In  "  Coningsby  "  he  flatters 
Louis  Philippe,  with  whom  he  was  obviously  person- 
ally acquainted,  immoderately,  though  he  must  have 
been  repugnant  to  him  as  a  citizen-king ;  he  makes 
Sidonia  speak  of  the  permanence  of  his  government, 
and  say  that  it  is  a  definitive  victory  over  the  repub- 
lic ;  it  is  even  in  relation  to  him  that  he  proclaims 
the  doctrine  of  the  restored  divinity  of  kings.  Fi- 
nally, the  following  year,  in  "  Sybil,"  Disraeli  falls 
into  a  perfect  ecstasy  about  the  grace  and  dignity 
of  Queen  Victoria  at  the  time  of  her  accession.  In 
these  exaggerated  theories  we  must  not,  of  course, 
forget  to  separate  what  is  said  from  policy  from 
real  political  conviction.  The  ultra-monarchical 
sentiments  which  Disraeli  professes  accord  well 
with  the  value  he  places  on  imagination  as  a  politi- 


214  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

cal  motive.  He  perceives  that  the  mass  of  the  peo- 
ple understand  only  the  monarchical  form  of  gov- 
ernment, and  comprehend  neither  the  strict  Parlia- 
mentary nor  the  republican  form.  The  multitude 
readily  imagine  themselves  to  be  ruled  by  a  king  or 
queen,  but  they  cannot  connect  any  ideas  with  con- 
stitutional government.  They  follow  the  family 
affairs  of  a  royal  house  with  far  greater  interest  than 
an  abstract  political  event.  "  The  women — one-half 
the  human  race,  at  least  —  care  fifty  times  more," 
as  Bagehot  truly  observes,  "  for  a  marriage  than  a 
ministry."  *  As  a  dignitary,  as  leader  of  society, 
as  the  representative  of  stability  amidst  all  political 
changes,  the  constitutional  sovereign  of  England 
has  always  maintained  his  significance.  Even  au- 
thors of  the  most  advanced  Liberal  opinion  have  al- 
ways admitted  that  it  is  a  great  advantage  that  con- 
stitutional royalty  "  enables  our  real  rulers  to  change 
without  heedless  people  knowing  it."  f  But  there 
is  a  long  way  between  this  and  the  recognition  of  a 
divine  character  in  royalty.  What  appears  to  be 
concealed  under  all  Disraeli's  mystical  expressions 
is  the  hope  that  the  Crown  might  regain  the  sort  of 
independence  that  it  had,  for  example,  under  Fred- 
erick the  Great  in  Prussia.  It  sometimes  appears 
as  if  he  wished  to  remind  the  Crown  that  it  must 

*  Bagehot,  "The  English  Constitution,"  p.  63.         \  Ibid.  p.  80. 


"Young  England"  and  "Coningsby"        215 

defend  itself  vigorously  against  the  claims  of  the 
favoured  classes,  and  seek  its  strength  in  the  broad, 
popular  foundation  on  which  it  rests ;  but  these 
democratic  ideas  in  his  case,  as  a  stereotyped  Tory, 
never  go  very  far.  The  glorification  of  the  royal 
prerogative  in  "  Coningsby  "  seems  to  be,  in  the 
first  place,  intended  for  the  possessor  of  it,  in  order 
to  gain  favour  for  the  author,  and  next. for  the  de- 
lectation of  Young  England. 

There  was  another  point  on  which  it  was  easier 
and  more  natural  for  Disraeli  to  sympathize  with 
the  retrograde  sympathies  of  his  young  staff.  This 
was  the  taste  for  forms  and  ceremonies  which  the 
members  of  it  had  imbibed  from  the  religious  ritual 
at  the  universities  ;  and  the  sentiment  was  strength- 
ened when  they  found  that  all  secular  ceremonial, 
national  costumes,  ancient  usages,  fetes,  processions, 
and  the  like,  were  vanishing  from  their  noble  cas- 
tles. I  have  already  pointed  out  that  Disraeli  has  a 
fantastic  taste  for  the  outward  and  visible  sign  of  a 
cause  or  an  idea — for  free  masonic  ceremonial ;  and 
this  taste  formed  a  point  of  contact  with  ritualism. 
His  liking  for  it  was  not  deep,  it  did  not  reach  the 
religious  heart  of  the  subject ;  to  this  Disraeli  was 
entirely  a  stranger — so  much  so  that  it  was  reserved 
for  him  as  Prime  Minister,  in  1874,  in  spite  of  the 
opposition  of  his  colleagues,  to  carry  a  Bill  intended 
to  put  a  stop  to  ritualism  in  the  Church  of  England. 


216  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

On  this  point  also,  therefore,  Disraeli  to  some  ex- 
tent met  his  young  followers  by  laying  great  stress 
on  the  points  on  which  they  were  agreed. 

In  "  Coningsby "  the  following  conversation  oc- 
curs : — 

"  '  Henry  thinks  that  the  people  are  to  be  fed  by 
dancing  round  a  May-pole.' 

"  '  But  will  the  people  be  more  fed  by  not  dancing 
round  a  May-pole  ?  ' 

" '  Obsolete  customs  ! ' 

"  '  And  why  should  dancing  round  a  May-pole  be 
more  obsolete  than  holding  a  chapter  of  the  Gar- 
ter?' 

"  '  The  spirit  of  the  age  is  against  such  things.' 

" '  And  what  is  the  spirit  of  the  age  ? ' 

"  '  The  spirit  of  utility.'  "  * 

As  the  reader  will  perceive,  hatred  of  utilitarian- 
ism is  the  element  which  binds  Disraeli  and  the  rit- 
ualists together.  Other  conversations  in  Disraeli's 
novels  are  in  the  same  tone.  The  young  men  wish 
to  see  more  form  and  ceremony  introduced  into 
life ;  they  explain  forms  and  ceremonies  as  wit- 
nesses of  the  highest  instincts  of  our  nature;  and  the 
author  himself  takes  occasion  to  point  out  that, 
under  the  influence  of  the  highest  and  most  earnest 
feelings,  man  always  takes  refuge  in  forms  and  cere- 

*  "  Coningsby,"  p.  134. 


"Young  England"  and  "Coningsby"        217 

monies,  for  the  excited  imagination  involuntarily 
appeals  to  the  imagination  of  others,  and  seeks  to 
find  expression  for  it  beyond  the  sphere  of  daily 
routine.  Here,  again,  we  have  stress  laid  on  imagi- 
nation as  the  beginning,  end,  and  aim  of  popular 
movements. 

According  to  the  opinion  of  the  author,  a  new 
Tory  party  might  be  formed  on  the  basis  of  the 
Tory  sentiments  and  Tory  dreams  propounded  in 
this  book — a  party  which  was  not  to  be  out  and  out 
Conservative,  but  which,  when  any  one  appealed 
to  Conservative  principles,  should  promptly  ask: 
"What  do  you  wish  to  conserve?"  The  previously 
existing  Conservative  party,  according  to  "Con- 
ingsby,"  was  chiefly  recruited  from  those  whose 
idea  of  politics  consisted  in  £1200  a  year,  paid 
quarterly.  The  ideas  of  these  persons  are  thus 
described  :  "To  receive  £1200  per  annum  is  govern- 
ment; to  try  to  receive  ^1200  per  annum  is  oppo- 
sition ;  to  wish  to  receive  ;£i2OO  per  annum  is  am- 
bition." *  Young  England,  with  its  youthful  and 
pathetic  enthusiasm,  and  its  political  earnestness, 
was  to  sweep  away  all  this  stupidity,  and  to  place 
genius  and  faithfulness  to  conviction  at  the  helm. 

*  "  Coningsby,"  p.  261. 

10 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  SYBIL." 

THE  question  with  which  "Coningsby"  concludes 
contains  the  political  problem  of  the  hour.  Just  a 
year  after  its  publication,  Disraeli  had  another 
novel  ready,  quite  as  important,  which,  as  a  con- 
trast to  the  other,  turned  on  the  social  problem. 
"  Coningsby "  had  treated  of  two  generations,  the 
new  work  was  "  Sybil,  or  The  Two  Nations." 

What  were  these  two  nations  ?  Not  the  English 
and  any  other  of  the  rival  nations  of  Europe,  but 
the  two  nations  into  which  the  English  people  and 
all  others  are  divided — the  nations  of  the  poor  and 
the  rich.  For  the  first  and  only  time,  Disraeli  de- 
parted from  his  custom  of  seeking  his  heroes  in  the 
most  wealthy  circles,  and  interested  himself  in  the 
cares  and  opinions  of  those  who  work  for  their 
bread.  "  Sybil "  is  the  fulfilment  of  the  promise 
contained  in  the  speech  on  the  Chartist  cause,  by 
its  confession  of  sympathy  with  the  Chartists ;  it 
is  an  attempt  to  open  the  eyes  of  England  to  the 
miserable  condition  of  its  lowest  population,  and  to 
bespeak  indulgence  for  the  political  errors  which 

218 


"Sybil."  219 

have  resulted  from  it.  Through  the  mediation  of 
a  friend,  Disraeli  had  got  sight  of  the  whole  cor- 
respondence between  Feargus  O'Connor,  leader  of 
the  Chartists  and  editor  of  the  Northern  Star,  and 
the  other  leaders  and  agents  of  the  movement.  He 
had  also  travelled  throughout  England,  and  visited 
the  localities  in  which  he  intended  to  lay  the  scene, 
and  had  thus  been  compelled  to  study  the  poverty 
of  the  country.  He  described  what  he  had  seen, 
not  only  without  exaggeration,  but,  as  he  states,  he 
softens  down  the  actual  facts,  for  he  felt  that,  if  he 
stated  the  whole  truth,  he  would  scarcely  be  believed. 

He  gives  a.  picture  of  one  of  those  pleasantly 
situated  little  English  villages,  which  look  to  the 
traveller  like  a  smiling  patch  of  colour  among  the 
surrounding  green  hills  and  gardens.  He  describes 
the  interior  of  one  of  these  villages:  the  holes  in 
the  roofs  through  which  the  rain  pours;  the  stinking 
manure-heaps  around  the  house,  and  even  close  to 
the  door;  no  fire  on  the  hearths,  even  in  winter; 
and  the  space  so  narrow  that  the  poor  mother, 
even  in  the  pangs  of  childbirth,  is  often  surrounded 
by  the  whole  family,  from  her  husband's  parents  to 
the  children,  whose  inevitable  presence  causes  her 
no  less  pain  than  childbirth  itself. 

Eight  shillings  a  week  are  labourers'  wages,  and 
it  is  impossible  for  a  man  with  a  family  to  live  on 
eight  shillings  a  week.  The  wife  works  as  well 


220  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

as  the  husband.  When  the  poor  man  returns  from 
his  day's  work,  he  finds  no  home,  no  fire,  no  meal 
prepared ;  his  wife  is  either  not  come  home,  or  is 
so  tired  out  with  field  labour  that  she  must  lie 
down  on  the  bed,  or  she  is  wet  through  and  has 
no  change  of  clothes.  And  in  contrast  to  this 
wretchedness,  there  is  the  cold,  philosophic  noble- 
man to  whom  the  seat  belongs,  which  has  given 
its  name  to  the  village,  and  whose  one  idea  is  how 
to  get  rid  of  this  troublesome  tenantry ;  he  builds 
no  new  cottages,  and  allows  the  existing  ones  to 
fall  into  decay ;  he  considers  that  emigration  on  a 
grand  scale  is  probably  the  only  remedy  for  these 
evils;  and  is,  of  course,  indignant  when  the  poor 
man  now  and  then  seeks  forgetfulness  in  the  public- 
house. 

Disraeli  goes  from  the  country  to  the  town,  and 
presents  a  picture  of  the  manufacturing  towns,  in 
which  want  and  degradation  exceed  that  in  the 
villages.  He  shows  us  the  famished  artisan,  whom 
machinery  has  reduced  to  abject  poverty,  at  work 
at  his  loom  in  the  early  morning  in  an  attic  ;  his 
grumbling  wife  embittered  by  hunger,  and  almost 
exasperated  with  her  husband;  the  starving  little 
ones  lying  awake  in  bed.  And  this  man  is  not 
ignorant  or  incapable.  They  have  dared  to  tell 
him  that  the  interests  of  capital  and  labour  are 
identical,  while  he  and  the  600,000  other  hand- 


"Sybil"  221 

loom  weavers  in  the  country,  in  spite  of  manly 
struggles,  are  daily  sinking  deeper  in  poverty,  in 
proportion  as  the  manufacturer  increases  his  wealth. 

"  When  the  class  of  the  nobility  were  supplanted 
in  France,"  says  this  man,  "  they  did  not  amount  in 
number  to  one-third  of  us  hand-loom  weavers  ;  yet 
all  Europe  went  to  war  to  avenge  their  wrongs, 
every  State  subscribed  to  maintain  them  in  their 
adversity,  and  when  they  were  restored  to  their  own 
country,  their  own  land  supplied  them  with  an  im- 
mense indemnity.  Who  cares  for  us?  Yet  we  have 
lost  our  estates.  Who  raises  a  voice  for  us  ?  Yet 
we  are  at  least  as  innocent  as  the  nobility  of  France. 
We  sink  among  no  sighs  except  our  own.  And  if 
they  give  us  sympathy,  what  then  ?  Sympathy  is 
the  solace  of  the  poor ;  but  for  the  rich  there  is  com- 
pensation."* 

We  are  taken  into  the  streets  of  the  manufactur- 
ing town,  and  come  to  houses  where  old  women  take 
new-born  babes  for  threepence  a  week,  and  give 
them  back  every  evening  to  their  mothers,  when 
they  return  from  the  factories  "  to  the  dung-heaps 
or  holes  which  they  call  their  homes."  The  nurses 
thrive  on  this  trade,  for  their  outlay  is  not  great — 
opium  and  syrup,  mixed  into  some  kind  of  national 
elixir.  This  drink  effectually  quiets  the  little  ones, 

*  "  Sybil,"  p.  134. 


222  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

and  sends  them  slowly  and  surely  to  the  grave.  "  In- 
fanticide is  practised  as  extensively  and  as  legally 
in  England  as  it  is  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges ;  a 
circumstance  which  apparently  has  not  yet  engaged 
the  attention  of  the  Society  for  the  Propagation  of 
the  Gospel  in  Foreign  Parts."* 

And  yet  there  are  children  whose  vitality  survives 
both  starvation  and  poison,  unnatural  mothers  and 
Satanic  nurses.  We  are  introduced  to  such  a  crea- 
ture under  the  fine-sounding  name  of  Devilsdust. 
We  learn  his  previous  history.  He  didn't  thrive, 
but  he  wouldn't  die.  When  he  was  two  years  old, 
and  the  nurse  had  lost  sight  of  the  mother  and  the 
weekly  pay,  he  was  sent  out  to  play  in  the  streets, 
in  the  hope  that  he  might  be  run  over.  But  this 
hope  failed.  All  his  little  playfellows  disappeared 
one  after  the  other.  "  Playing "  in  the  streets  for 
three  months  was  generally  sufficient  to  get  rid  of 
the  whole  half-naked,  bare-footed  crew  between  two 
and  five  years.  Some  were  run  over,  others  lost ; 
some  took  fevers,  crept  into  their  cellars,  had  a 
dram  of  brandy  given  them,  and  died ;  Devilsdust 
was  the  toughest  of  them  all.  He  had  nothing  to 
eat  but  what  he  could  get  for  himself,  and  he  shared 
the  street  refuse  with  the  dogs  ;  but  pale  and 
stunted  as  he  was,  he  kept  alive. 

*  "  Sybil,"  p.  113. 


"Sybil"  223 

We  descend  into  still  lower  depths,  into  the  coal- 
mines. "  Bands  of  stalwart  men,  broad-chested  and 
muscular,  wet  with  toil,  and  black  as  the  children  of 
the  tropics.  Troops  of  youth,  alas !  of  both  sexes, 
though  neither  their  raiment  nor  their  language  in- 
dicates the  difference — all  are  clad  in  male  attire ; 
and  oaths  that  men  might  shudder  at,  issue  from 
lips  born  to  breathe  words  of  sweetness.  Yet  these 
are  to  be,  some  are,  the  mothers  of  England !  But 
can  we  wonder  at  the  hideous  coarseness  of  their 
language,  when  we  remember  the  savage  rudeness 
of  their  lives?  Naked  to  the  waist,  an  iron  chain 
fastened  to  a  belt  of  leather  runs  between  their  legs 
clad  in  canvas  trousers,  while  on  hands  and'  feet  an 
English  girl,  for  twelve,  sometimes  for  sixteen,  hours 
a  day,  hauls  and  hurries  tubs  of  coal  up  subterra- 
nean roads,  dark,  precipitous,  and  plashy;  circum- 
stances that  seem  to  have  escaped  the  notice  of  the 
Society  for  the  Abolition  of  Negro  Slavery.  Those 
worthy  gentlemen,  too,  appear  to  have  been  singu- 
larly unconscious  of  the  sufferings  of  the  little  trap- 
pers, which  was  remarkable,  as  many  of  them  were 
in  their  own  employ."  * 

And  as  a  set-off  against  this  state  of  things,  on 
the  one  hand  there  is  the  Manchester  wisdom,  which, 
with  an  air  of  importance,  gives  lectures  to  the  work- 

*  "Sybil,"  p.  161. 


224  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

ing  classes  (in  districts  where,  on  an  average,  the 
working  man  dies  at  eighteen),  and  tells  him  that 
now  he  has  a  pair  of  worsted  stockings,  while  Henry 
VIII.  had  none,  and  that  therefore  the  condition  of 
the  lower  classes  is  gradually  improving;  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  there  is  the  brutality  of  the  nobles, 
which  is  represented  in  "Sybil"  by  Lord  Marney, 
whose  war-cry  is  "war  against  the  cottages,"  and 
who  thinks  the  levelling  tendencies  of  the  age  so 
dangerous  that  he  even  rates  vehemently  against 
railways,  and  the  frivolity  of  the  young  men  in  good 
society  who  lose  their  money  in  betting  at  the  Der- 
by, frequent  the  clubs,  are  young  yet  6/asSes,  hand- 
some yet  worn  out,  wealthy  yet  in  debt. 

It  might  be  supposed,  from  this  description,  that 
the  prevailing  tone  of  the  book  is  lachrymose,  senti- 
mental, and  bitter;  but  so  little  is  this  the  case, 
that,  to  Disraeli's  credit,  it  is  pervaded  by  a  happy 
humour,  sometimes  pathetic,  sometimes  sarcastic, 
but  always  in  good  taste  and  well  sustained.  It  cul- 
minates in  the  description  of  Wodgate,  a  town  of 
smithies,  where  hammer  and  axe  reign  supreme,  and 
in  which  there  is  no  public  building  of  any  sort, 
neither  church,  school,  theatre,  nor  assembly  room. 
The  people  of  Wodgate  spend  their  lives  alternately 
in  exhausting  labour,  and  Saint  Monday  joviality, 
which  includes  Tuesday  ;  they  are  so  ignorant  that 
many  of  the  inhabitants  do  not  know  their  own 


"Sybil"  225 

names,  very  few  can  spell  them  ;  so  neglected  that 
it  is  rare  to  find  a  person  who  knows  how  old  he  is, 
still  rarer  to  find  a  boy  who  has  seen  a  book,  or  a 
girl  a  flower.  As  for  religion,  they  have  a  dim  no- 
tion that  we  ought  to  believe  in  our  Lord  and 
Saviour,  Pontius  Pilate,  who  went  about  the  world 
accompanied  by  Moses,  Goliath,  and  the  other 
Apostles.  They  obey,  as  their  self-elected  ruler,  an 
old  master  smith,  whom  they  call  "  the  bishop  ; "  he 
is  hard,  but  just,  rasps  the  ears  of  his  apprentices 
with  his  file  when  they  are  unskilful  at  their  work, 
and  marries  young  couples  in  the  only  valid  fashion 
at  Wodgate,  by  sprinkling  salt  on  a  joint  of  roast 
meat,  and  reading  the  Lord's  Prayer  over  it  back- 
wards. He  is  the  highest  authority  at  Wodgate, 
and  rules  everybody,  except  his  wife,  who  is  far 
sharper  than  he  is. 

It  is  on  this  broad  and  powerfully  painted  back- 
ground that  the  scene  of  the  novel  is  laid.  It  is  sim- 
ple, as  is  generally  the  case  with  Disraeli.  Charles 
Egremont,  a  young  man  of  a  noble  family,  after  a 
youth  in  which  he  did  not  in  any  way  distinguish 
himself,  is,  in  1837,  elected  a  member  of  Parliament; 
and  while  staying  in  the  country,  meets,  near  the 
ruins  of  an  old  abbey  belonging  to  his  brother,  two 
men,  with  whom  he  enters  into  conversation,  and 
who  greatly  surprise  him  by  the  originality  of  their 
views  on  the  social  and  political  condition  of  Eng- 

10* 


226  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

land.  They  are,  as  it  appears,  Stephen  Morley,  a  fa- 
natical but  very  clever  self-taught  man,  editor  of  a  so- 
cialist newspaper,  and  Walter  Gerard,  a  simple  work- 
ing man,  but  a  type  of  the  noble  Saxon  peasant  race, 
a  man  of  clear  head  and  great  energy,  born  to  be 
a  leader  of  a  Radical  working  men's  party.  They 
are  only  accidentally  in  the  neighbourhood  with 
Gerard's  daughter,  who  wanted  to  see  the  abbey. 
Egremont  has  just  been  pondering,  with  the  ruins 
of  the  abbey  in  view,  how  it  is  that  the  people  of 
the  district  have  taken  to  burning  the  stacks  of  his 
brother,  Lord  Marney,  while  hay  and  corn  was 
threatened  with  no  such  danger  in  the  times  of  the 
old  Catholic  abbeys.  This  naturally  turns  the  con- 
versation between  him  and  Gerard  to  the  subject 
of  the  rule  of  the  monks  contrasted  with  the  govern- 
ment of  the  present  day.  Gerard  extols  the  monks ; 
they  did  not  possess  any  private  property,  nor  lay 
by,  nor  leave  money  by  will ;  neither  were  they 
absent  for  years,  like  the  present  landowners — on 
the  contrary,  they  never  left  the  abbey ;  they  built 
and  planted  for  posterity,  founded  libraries  and 
schools,  showed  kindness  to  the  poor  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood. Gerard  is  a  Catholic,  but  the  question 
with  him  is  not  a  religious  one,  it  is  one  of  right. 
The  most  conspicuous  result  of  the  Reformation,  in 
his  opinion,  was  that  the  monasteries  were  attacked, 
desolated,  plundered  to  an  unprecedented  extent, 


"Sybil"  227 

and  the  treasures  of  the  monks  were  distributed 
among  the  plunderers  so  as  to  found,  in  a  pecuniary 
sense,  a  new  aristocracy.  Morley  agrees  with  Ge- 
rard, but  what  he  most  regrets  in  the  destruction  of 
the  old  abbeys  is  that  with  them  the  last  English 
type  of  a  society  with  a  community  of  goods  disap- 
peared ;  instead  of  association,  which  is  the  essence 
of  society,  England  has  now  nothing  but  isolation. 

"  In  great  cities  men  are  brought  together  by  the 
desire  of  gain.  They  are  not  in  a  state  of  co-opera- 
tion, but  of  isolation,  as  to  the  making  of  fortunes  ; 
and  for  all  the  rest,  they  are  careless  of  neighbours. 
Christianity  teaches  us  to  love  our  neighbours  as 
ourselves  ;  modern  society  acknowledges  no  neigh- 
bour."* 

The  words  of  both  Gerard  and  Morley  make  a 
great  impression  on  Egremont,  and  he  is  still  more 
moved  when  Gerard's  daughter  Sybil,  whose  voice, 
as  she  sang  her  evening  hymn  to  the  Virgin,  had 
been  heard  as  she  sat  apart  among  the  ruins,  drew 
near  to  the  men.  Like  all  Disraeli's  heroines,  she 
is  an  ideal  of  beauty,  gentleness,  and  enthusiasm ; 
the  author  has  not  succeeded  in  endowing  her  with 
very  distinctive  features,  but  she  fills  her  place  as 
the  incarnation  of  the  hopes  and  nobleness  of  mind 
of  the  lower  classes. 

*  "Sybil, "p.  76. 


228  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

Egremont  resolves,  partly  because  he  longs  to  be 
near  Sybil,  partly  to  study  the  life  and  circum- 
stances of  the  factory  workers,  to  settle  for  a  time 
under  an  assumed  name,  in  the  district  where  Ge- 
rard lives.  We  are  now  shown  the  rise  and  progress 
of  the  Chartist  movement ;  we  make  acquaintance 
with  the  ideas  of  its  leaders  and  the  masses  ;  and 
the  novel  which,  like  all  Disraeli's,  connects  itself 
with  actual  events  not  far  distant,  describes  the 
handing  in  of  the  National  Petition  to  Parliament. 
How  it  was  received  has  already  been  told.  The 
impression  made  by  its  reception  on  the  personages 
in  the  novel  may  be  imagined.  What  a  disappoint- 
ment for  Sybil,  who  had  so  firm  a  belief  that  that 
day  would  have  grand  results!  Sad  at  heart,  she 
opens  the  paper  next  morning,  which  contains  the 
report  of  the  proceedings  of  Parliament.  It  was  a 
heavy  task  to  read  it.  Then  her  face  suddenly 
brightens  up.  "  Yes,  there  was  one  voice  that  had 
sounded  in  that  proud  Parliament,  that,  free  from 
the  slang  of  faction,  had  dared  to  express  immortal 
truths ;  the  voice  of  a  noble,  who,  without  being  a 
demagogue,  had  upheld  the  popular  cause ;  had 
pronounced  his  conviction  that  the  rights  of  labour 
were  as  sacred  as  those  of  property ;  that  if  a  differ- 
ence were  to  be  established,  the  interests  of  the  liv- 
ing wealth  ought  to  be  preferred."  * 

*  "Sybil,"  p.  337. 


"  Sybil"  229 

It  was  Egremont  who  made  the  speech,  but  it  is 
plain  that  it  was  no  superfluous  modesty  which 
prevented  Disraeli  from  sounding  his  own  praises 
through  the  beautiful  lips  of  his  heroine.  The  word 
"  noble  "  is  the  sole  slender  bulwark  to  prevent  the 
author  and  hero  melting  into  one. 

To  those  around  him  Egremont  seems  to  be  the 
advocate  of  Chartism  ;  in  reality,  however,  he  con- 
siders it  to  be  a  movement  without  a  leader,  and  his 
principles  are  laid  before  the  reader  in  his  conversa- 
tions with  Sybil.  He  reminds  her  that  her  knowl- 
edge of  the  upper  classes  is  derived  from  books, 
not  from  experience,  and  tells  her  that  since  these 
books  were  written,  a  great  change  has  taken  place. 
"  '  If  there  be  a  change/  said  Sybil,  '  it  is  because  in 
some  degree  the  people  have  learnt  their  strength.' ' 
Egremont  gently  begs  her  to  dismiss  this  fancy. 
"  The  people  are  not  strong ;  the  people  never  can 
be  strong.  Their  attempts  at  self-vindication  will 
end  only  in  their  suffering  and  confusion.  It  is  civ- 
ilization that  has  effected,  that  is  effecting,  this 
change.  It  is  that  increased  knowledge  of  them- 
selves that  teaches  the  educated  their  social  duties. 
There  is  a  dayspring  in  the  history  of  this  nation, 
which  perhaps  those  only  who  are  on  the  mountain- 
tops  can  as  yet  recognize.  You  deem  you  are  in 
darkness,  and  I  see  a  dawn.  The  new  generation 
of  the  aristocracy  of  England  are  not  tyrants,  not 


230  Lord  Beaconsfield, 

oppressors,  Sybil,  as  you  persist  in  believing.  Their 
intelligence,  better  than  that,  their  hearts,  are  open 
to  the  responsibility  of  their  position.  .  .  .  They 
are  the  natural  leaders  of  the  people,  Sybil ;  believe 
me,  they  are  the  only  ones."  * 

These  words,  in  accordance  with  Disraeli's  pecu- 
liarity as  an  author,  contain  the  gist  of  the  book 
reduced  to  a  formula.  They  occur  about  the  mid- 
dle of  the  novel,  and  the  latter  half  is  intended  to 
prove  their  truth.  The  Trades  Unionists,  who  have 
seen  their  hopes  of  constitutional  reforms  annihi- 
lated, enter  into  a  sort  of  conspiracy  throughout  the 
country  ;  the  moderate  leaders  are  carried  away  by 
the  more  violent,  and  soon  disturbances  take  place. 
The  band  to  which  Gerard  belongs  is  imprisoned, 
and  Egremont  succeeds  with  difficulty  in  releasing 
Sybil.  In  the  country,  the  "  bishop  "  and  his  flock 
have  risen ;  this  wild  mob  assassinates  Egremont's 
wicked  brother,  Lord  Marney,  and  so  the  hero  suc- 
ceeds to  the  title ;  they  storm  a  castle,  in  which 
proofs  are  discovered  of  Gerard's  title  to  large 
estates,  and  thus  they  help  the  heroine  to  an  im- 
mense dowry ;  all  the  bad  and  ill-conducted  persons 
die  violent  deaths,  the  Socialist  editor  among  them  ; 
the  good  ones  are  happily  united.  The  childish  and 
conventional  optimism  with  which  Disraeli's  novels 

"  Sybil,"  p.  319. 


"  Sybil"  231 

finish  up,  is  almost  irritating  to  the  reader,  but  it  is 
a  feature  to  which  he  has  to  accustom  himself. 

The  strong  point  of  the  book,  as  a  work  of  fiction, 
is  the  series  of  well-drawn  characters  :  the  high  aris- 
tocratic society,  the  young  factory  workers  of  both 
sexes,  in  whose  rough  naivett  there  is  a  marked  in- 
dividuality, finally  the  "  bishop  "  and  his  brother,  a 
London  attorney,  who  supports  him  without  choos- 
ing to  acknowledge  the  relationship ;  all  these  vari- 
ous groups  are  well  conceived  and  truthfully  drawn. 
In  the  pair  last  mentioned,  especially,  Disraeli  is 
very  successful  in  depicting  lawless  -violence  and 
worldly  wisdom,  and  in  throwing  light  on  each  by 
the  contrast.  There  is  the  same  contrast  in  "Al- 
roy,"  between  the  relentless  fanaticism  of  the  Rabbi 
Jabaster,  and  the  sage  epicurean  philosophy  of  his 
brother  Honan ;  and  in  both  cases  it  produces  great 
dramatic  effect.  The  character  of  Morley,  the 
Socialist,  is  altogether  a  failure.  In  the  first  place, 
he  is  sacrificed  to  the  special  tendency  of  the  book; 
for  in  order  to  prove  the  necessity  that  the  people 
should  be  led  by  the  aristocracy,  the  plebeian  leader 
has  to  be  made  wicked,  and  makes  an  attempt  to 
assassinate  Egremont  out  of  jealousy  in  a  love 
affair.  In  the  second  place,  Morley  is  spoiled  by 
Disraeli's  taste  for  the  melodramatic  and  bombastic. 
In  his  dying  moments,  with  a  bullet  in  his  breast, 
he  makes  a  long  theatrical  speech  to  Egremont 


232  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

which  ends  thus  :  "  Your  star  has  controlled  mine : 
and  now  I  feel  I  have  sacrificed  life  and  fame — 
dying  men  prophesy — for  your  profit  and  honour."  * 

An  author  who  was  intending  to  train  himself  for 
a  Parliamentary  speaker,  had  better  have  been  on 
his  guard  against  the  rhetoric  ever  ready  to  flow 
from  his  pen,  even  at  the  most  inappropriate  places. 

Politically,  this  novel  follows  in  the  track  of 
"  Coningsby,"  but  with  more  steam  on.  The  two 
old  parties  are  still  more  plainly  told  that  their  day 
is  over,  and  that  there  is  no  essential  difference 
between  them.  The  Chartists,  it  is  said,  had  long 
ceased  to  distinguish  between  the  two  parties  who 
formerly  and  at  the  present  time  were  contending 
for  power.  What  is  the  principle  that  makes  the 
difference  between  the  noble  lord  who  resigns  his 
portfolio,  and  the  right  honourable  gentleman  who 
accepts  it  ?  Here,  as  in  "  Coningsby,"  the  British 
Parliamentary  system  is  vehemently  attacked,  its 
government  by  majority  is  characterized  as  power 
in  the  hands  of  a  few  dozen  "  unknown  and  anony- 
mous blockheads,"  who  form  the  difference  in  num- 
bers between  parties,  and  whose  favour  is  gained 
by  the  promise  of  a  peerage,  or  a  baronetcy,  or  an 
invitation  to  a  court  ball  for  their  wives.  "  Such 
a  system  may  suit  the  balanced  interests  and  the 

*" Sybil, "p.  482. 


"Sybil."  .  233 

periodical  and  alternate  command  of  rival  oligar- 
chical connections ;  but  it  can  subsist  only  by  the 
subordination  of  the  sovereign  and  the  degradation 
of  the  multitude,  and  cannot  accord  with  an  age 
whose  genius  will  soon  confess  that  power  and  the 
people  are  both  divine."  * 

It  is  also  prophesied  again  and  again  that  Tory- 
ism will  rise  from  the  grave  in  which  it  has  lain 
since  the  death  of  Bolingbroke,  in  order  to  proclaim 
to  the  world  with  a  mighjy  voice  "that  power  has 
but  one  duty— to  secure  the  welfare  of  the  masses." 

There  are  passages  in  this  book  which  remind  one 
of  Lassalle. 

*  "  Sybil,"  p.  44. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE    CORN    LAWS  AND  THE    CONTEST  WITH    PEEL. 

THE  fourth  decade  of  the  present  century  opened 
stormily  in  Great  Britain.  A  general  discontent 
and  restlessness  had  taken  possession  of  the  people. 
Bad  harvests,  hard  winters,  the  rigid  Poor  Law,  the 
Chartist  movement,  with  the  burning  of  stacks  that 
followed,  disturbances,  and  riots,  kept  the  lower 
classes  in  a  perpetual  fever.  Chartist  petitions  were 
continually  being  presented  to  Parliament ;  the  one 
handed  in  in  May,  1842,  had  over  3,300,000  signa- 
tures, and  as  they  shared  the  fate  of  the  National 
Petition,  two  attempts  on  the  life  of  the  Queen  were 
made  in  three  months.  High  prices  and  distress 
excited  a  rebellion  in  Wales ;  a  secret  society,  called 
"  Rebecca  and  her  Daughters,"  insolently  bade  de- 
fiance to  the  authorities ;  and  the  state  of  things  in 
the  autumn  of  1843  was  officially  described  as  "  ut- 
terly lawless."  But  nothing  equalled  the  distress 
and  the  spirit  of  rebellion  in  Ireland.  The  popula- 
tion of  that  country,  destitute  of  trade  or  manufac- 
tures, was  exclusively  devoted  to  agriculture,  and 
the  peasantry  of  the  over-populous  island  had  sunk 

234 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.    235 

into  the  most  abject  wretchedness  through  high 
rents  and  great  competition  for  land.  The  people's 
diet  consisted  exclusively  of  potatoes,  and  in  most 
districts,  begging  seemed  to  be  their  chief  source  of 
gain.  The  desperation  of  the  famishing  people  was 
so  great  that  the  landowners  seldom  ventured  to 
live  amongst  their  tenantry,  and,  of  course,  the  ex- 
isting evils  were  only  increased  by  absenteeism.  To 
all  this  social  ferment,  political  agitation  must  be 
added,  for  just  at  this  period  O'Connell  was  strain- 
ing every  nerve  in  a  crusade  for  the  Repeal  of  the 
Union,  and  holding  meetings,  attended  by  an  ever- 
increasing  number  of  people — once  300,000  were 
present,  and  on  another  occasion  1,200,000,  while  in 
every  chapel  enthusiastic  and  fanatical  priests  made 
collections  for  the  purposes  of  agitation.  He  was 
indicted  as  a  conspirator,  and  in  the  two  first  in- 
stances, sentenced  with  unjust  severity ;  he  was, 
therefore,  of  course,  more  passionately  revered  by 
the  people  than  ever ;  on  the  last  occasion  he  was 
fully  acquitted,  a  circumstance  but  little  adapted  to 
increase  respect  for  the  Government. 

The  agitation,  however,  which  pervaded  the  coun- 
try was  not  confined  to  these  movements  of  the 
revolutionary  and  Radical  party.  A  far  more  im- 
portant agitation  had  been  stirred  up  among  the 
educated  and  mercantile  middle  classes  against  the 
Corn  Laws  by  the  powerful  eloquence  of  Richard 


236  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

Cobden,  and  arising  out  of  the  Anti-Corn  Law 
League.  This  league,  after  an  existence  of  a  few 
years,  had  a  million  sterling  at  its  command,  and 
with  "  cheap  bread  "  for  its  watchword,  sought  to 
incite  the  people  to  oppose  a  system  of  legislation, 
the  result  of  which,  on  an  average,  was  described  by 
the  Free  Traders  to  be  to  make  bread  dearer  by 
£10,000,000,  for  the  sole  benefit  of  16,000  land- 
owners and  farmers. 

The  Chartists  were  at  first  very  cool,  or  even  hos- 
tile, to  the  Liberal  agitation  ;  they  openly  asserted 
that  "  cheap  bread  "  would  practically  result  in  an 
agitation  for  "-cheap  labour."  But  by  degrees,  dis- 
tress compelled  them  to  give  up  their  distrust  of, 
and  opposition  to,  the  Liberals,  and  when  they  and 
the  Irish  joined  the  Free  Trade  movement,  it  grew 
stronger  and  stronger,  and  soon  became  nearly  irre- 
sistible. 

The  Tory  party  had  taken  the  helm  in  1841.  Sir 
Robert  Peel  had  succeeded  Lord  Melbourne  as 
Prime  Minister.  He  was  then  at  the  summit  of  his 
fame  ;  he  was  not  only  the  most  powerful,  but  the 
most  popular  man  in  England ;  he  was  held  to  be 
what  Disraeli  had  called  him  at  his  election  at 
Shrewsbury  during  the  same  year,  "  the  greatest 
statesman  of  his  age ; "  and  it  was  the  general  im- 
pression that  he  would  retain  his  power  until  his 
death. 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.    237 

Party  interests  alone  would  have  induced  Disraeli 
to  support  Peel ;  in  the  "  Runnymede  Letters,"  in 
which  he  had  loaded  most  of  the  other  politicians 
with  taunts,  he  had  alluded  to  Peel  in  touching 
words  as  the  hope  of  the  nation.  About  1840  also 
he  spoke  of  him  in  his  speeches  and  writings  with 
an  admiration  which  not  seldom  approaches  flat- 
tery ;  he  seems  at  first  to  have  regarded  him  as  his 
trump  card.  He  probably  cherished  a  hope  that 
Peel  would  offer  him  a  place  in  his  cabinet,  if  only  a 
subordinate  one — an  Under-Secretaryship  of  State, 
for  instance,  with  which  Contarini  Fleming  began 
his  career;  but  of  course,  he  was  too  wise  as  well  as 
too  proud  to  do  anything  which  might  be  construed 
into  asking  for  it.  But  Peel  overlooked  his  ardent 
follower;  it  was  not  his  strong  point  to  discern 
ability  before  it  had  been  discovered  by  all  the 
world,  and  in  this  case  there  seems  to  have  been  an 
antipathy  also.  Disraeli  swallowed  his  disappoint- 
ment, continued,  with  unchanged  attitude  and 
faithfulness  to  party,  to  support  Peel  during  the 
two  following  years,  and  even  glorified  him  in 
"Coningsby."  It  was  a  bad  habit  of  Peel's  to  treat 
his  supporters  with  a  repelling  coldness,  as  if  they 
were  conquered  subjects,  and  to  reserve  all  the  ur- 
banity and  winning  qualities  at  his  command  for  his 
opponents.  For  some  years  Disraeli  submitted  to 
this  treatment  with  perfect  discipline.  Yet  we  can 


238  Lord  Beaconsficld. 

scarcely  doubt  that  even  from  the  beginning,  there 
was  on  his  part  also  a  keen  antipathy  to  the  states- 
man whose  follower  he  was.  Not  that  there  was 
any  feeling  of  rivalry — there  scarcely  could  be  this 
between  a  young  member  of  Parliament  and  the 
first  man  in  the  country;  what  he  felt  was  the  aver- 
sion of  the  man  of  thre  choleric  temperament  to  the 
phlegmatic,  of  the  man  of  quick  and  keen  temper 
to  universal  and  seldom  genuine  bonhommie,  the 
hatred  of  an  original  nature  for  routine,  the  con- 
tempt of  the  imaginative  politician  for  the  un- 
imaginative. As  early  as  in  1829,  Disraeli  had  given 
the  following  characteristic  description  in  "The 
Young  Duke : " — "  Mr.  Peel  is  the  model  of  a  Minis- 
ter, and  improves  as  a  speaker;  though,  like  most  of 
the  rest,  he  is  fluent  without  the  least  style.  He 
should  not  get  so  often  in  a  passion  either,  or,  if 
he  do,  should  not  get  out  of  one  so  easily.  His 
sweet  apologies  are  cloying.  His  candour;  he  will 
do  well  to  get  rid  of  that."  * 

When  we  find  the  same  estimate  of  Peel  reap- 
pearing in  1845,  we  may  conclude  that  no  essential 
change  had  taken  place  in  it  during  the  intervening 
years. 

Disraeli  was  not  made  for  a  partisan  who  is  ready 
to  renounce  all  independence  .and  criticism,  and  he 

*  "  The  Young  Duke,"  p.  287. 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.    239 

was  still  less  inclined  to  submission  when  his  adhe- 
sion was  rewarded  with  thanklessness  and  outbreaks 
of  haughty  superiority  from  one  whom  he  did  not 
consider  in  his  heart  to  be  his  superior  either  in 
general  talent  or  political  ability.  Respect  for  Sir 
Robert  Peel  hung  like  a  yoke  round  the  necks  of 
his  followers ;  his  position  as  Prime  Minister,  his 
dignity  and  his  mastery  in  Parliamentary  debate, 
made  it  difficult  to  conceive  that  any  one  of  them 
could  venture  to  criticise  him.  Disraeli  resolved  to 
throw  off  the  yoke.  The  action  of  the  Government 
had  appeared  to  him,  in  more  than  one  instance, 
not  very  statesmanlike,  and  feeling  himself  born  to 
be  a  leader,  he  ventured,  as  such  men  did  in  the 
olden  time  in  Scandinavia,  to  challenge  the  strong- 
est giant  to  single  combat  for  the  leadership  of  the 
host  of  his  followers.  As  he  could  not  get  forward 
in  company  with  Peel,  he  must  try  to  do  so  as  his 
opponent. 

Extraordinary  courage  was  required  to  enter  on 
the  contest.  When,  in  1843,  Disraeli  for  the  first 
time  attacked  Sir  Robert  Peel,  under  cover  of  an 
extra  polite  question  relating  to  Eastern  affairs,  the 
effect  produced  on  members  was  one  of  simple  as- 
tonishment ;  they  looked  at  one  another,  and  asked 
each  other,  so  to  speak,  if  they  had  heard  aright. 
The  question  was  curtly  and  coldly  turned  off  by 
Sir  Robert  Peel.  But  a  few  days  after,  the  same 


240  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

irrepressible  speaker  rose  again,  and  asserted  that 
Sir  Robert  Peel's  policy  towards  Ireland  was  pre- 
cisely that  for  which  he  had  so  strenuously  attacked 
the  previous  Ministry,  and  precisely  the  opposite  of 
that  which  he  had  recommended  as  leader  of  the 
Opposition.  He  did  not  blame  the  Minister  for 
this  by  any  means ;  if  he  was  of  opinion  that  the 
policy  he  had  previously  advocated  was  not  such 
as  a  Minister  can  adopt,  he  had  only  acted  reason- 
ably and  rightly  in  giving  it  up  as  soon  as  he  was 
at  the  helm.  Only  he  (Disraeli)  must  draw  the  con- 
clusion from  it  that,  in  relation  to  Irish  politics, 
those  who  supported  the  right  honourable  gentle- 
man were  now  left  to  themselves.  This  was  the 
style,  a  polite  and  cool  sarcastic  style,  well  adapted 
for  the  skirmish  which  generally  precedes  a  collision. 
As  to  the  matter  itself,  it  may  be  observed  that 
Disraeli  has  always  recommended  forbearance  and 
kindness  as  the  best  means  of  pacifying  Ireland,  and 
has  always  declared  it  to  be  in  accordance  with  old 
Tory  tradition,  as  well  as  the  duty  of  his  party,  "  to 
govern  Ireland  in  accordance  with  the  policy  of 
Charles  I.  and  not  that  of  Oliver  Cromwell." 

Not  long  after,  Disraeli  renewed  his  objections 
to  the  Eastern  policy  of  the  Government.  In  the 
question  as  to  who  should  occupy  the  throne  of 
Servia,  Sir  Robert  Peel  had  left  Turkey,  in  respect 
to  Russia,  entirely  in  the  lurch,  and  this  proceeding 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.    241 

Disraeli  attacked.  It  was  of  no  use  to  endeavour  to 
conceal  from  himself  the  situation  of  Turkey ;  her 
power  was  broken  ;  not  so  much  from  internal  de- 
cay as  because  she  had  had  a  stab  in  the  back.  He 
reminded  the  House  that  he  had  before  put  a  ques- 
tion on  this  subject  to  the  Prime  Minister,  and,  as 
he  considered,  had  put  it  in  Parliamentary  language 
with  all  due  respect.  To  this  question  the  Minister 
had  replied  with  "  all  that  explicitness  of  which  he 
was  a  master,  and  all  that  courtesy  which  he  re- 
served only  for  his  supporters."  * 

It  was  impossible  to  express  bitterness  with  finer 
irony,  and  it  was  a  ricochet  shot,  for  it  both  hit  Peel 
just  where  he  exposed  himself  to  attack,  namely, 
in  his  bearing  towards  his  own  party,  and  irritated 
the  Tories  where  their  pride  was  wounded. 

These  attacks  were  only  the  preliminary  skir- 
mishes ;  they  were  the  beginnings  of  a  conflict  which 
lasted  for  years,  carried  on  by  the  attacking  party 
with  unparalleled  persistency,  by  force  and  cunning, 
by  raillery  and  pathos,  with  darts  and  clubs,  weapons 
good  and  bad,  fair  and  unfair — until  the  foe  suc- 
cumbed, and  in  his  fall  lost  both  his  position  and 
his  party.  What  did  it  avail  Peel  that  thirty-five 
years  of  Parliamentary  experience  had  steeled  him, 
and  taught  him  the  art  of  parrying  blows  ?  He 

*  O'Connor's  Life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,"  p.  251. 
ii 


242  Lord  Beaconsficld. 

never  knew  when  the  attack  would  be  made,  nor  to 
what  point  it  would  be  directed.  He  suddenly  heard 
the  whizzing  of  the  arrow  in  the  air,  and  it  pene- 
trated wherever  there  was  a  joint  or  a  weak  point  in 
his  armour.  Of  what  avail  was  it  for  him  to  assure 
the  House,  with  the  utmost  indifference,  that  he 
was  not  in  the  least  sensitive  to  the  praise  or  cen- 
sure of  the  honourable  member  for  Shrewsbury?  All 
at  once  he  saw  a  flash  in  his  adversary's  eye,  and,  like 
a  dagger  hurled  by  the  hand  of  an  Eastern  assassin, 
some  cutting  sarcasm  struck  him  in  what  was  just 
then  his  most  sensitive  part ;  and,  owing  to  his  long 
Parliamentary  career,  he  had  many  sensitive  points. 
One  of  those  was  his  relation  to  the  great  statesman 
Canning.  When  Canning,  to  whom  Peel  had  always 
been  'united  by  personal  friendship,  assumed  the 
reins  of  government  after  the  death  of  Lord  Liver- 
pool, in  1827,  and  exchanged  the  previous  Metter- 
nich-like  policy  of  Great  Britain  for  a  new  and  manly 
one,  which  was  crowned  by  the  battle  of  Navarino, 
and  won  the  applause  of  enlightened  Europe,  Peel 
deserted  him,  and  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
ignoble  opposition  against  Canning  which  hastened 
his  death.  Even  when  Disraeli  was  adopting  a  de- 
cidedly apologetic  tone  towards  the  Prime  Minister, 
he  was  not  quite  ready  to  exculpate  him  on  this 
point.  In  "Coningsby,"  in  spite  of  his  vindication 
of  Peel,  he  had  confessed  that  his  conduct  towards 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.    243 

Canning,  even  if  it  be  capable  of  justification,  "  may 
perhaps  always  leave  this  a  painful  and  ambiguous 
passage  in  his  career." 

In  the  beginning  of  1845,  a  member  of  the  Minis- 
try had  placed  the  Government  in  an  odious  light 
by  a  mean  and  impolitic  act.  As  the  attention  of 
the  Austrian  Government  was  fixed  upon  Mazzini, 
then  residing  in  England,  and  his  relations  with  the 
Italian  revolutionists,  particularly  with  two  brothers 
named  Bandiera,  living  in  Corfu,  Sir  James  Graham 
had  had  Mazzini's  letters  opened,  and  had  informed 
the  Austrian  Government  of  the  schemes  of  the 
brothers ;  he  was  thus  the  cause  of  the  two  Italian 
patriots  being  enticed  by  a  political  agent  on  to 
Austrian  soil,  where  they  were  seized  and  shot. 
The  English  were  universally  indignant  that  a 
British  Minister  should  stoop  to  perform  police 
services  for  a  foreign  despotic  Power.  When  the 
subject  came  before  Parliament,  Sir  Robert  Peel, 
in  his  defence,  betrayed  unusual  irritation.  In  a 
longer  speech  which  Disraeli  made  against  Graham, 
he  made  the  dry  remark  in  reference  to  the  circum- 
stance, that  the  Prime  Minister  had  far  too  large  a 
mind,  and  occupied  far  too  high  a  position,  ever  to 
lose  his  equanimity,  but  that  in  a  popular  assembly 
it  was  occasionally  advantageous  to  play  the  part 
of  the  choleric  gentleman.  He  knew  from  experi- 
ence that  for  novices  these  exhibitions  were  always 


244  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

somewhat  exciting ;  he  made  the  remark  especially 
for  the  sake  of  the  younger  members,  that  they 
might  not  be  needlessly  alarmed.  They  need  not 
be  afraid — the  Minister  was  not  going  to  eat  them 
up.  And  in  this  tone  he  went  on.  It  will  be  ob- 
served that  the  suspicion  as  to  Peel's  candour, 
which  had  been  expressed  in  "  The  Young  Duke," 
is  here  emphasized  with  taunting-ridicule. 

Peel  replied  with  calm  superiority.  He  had 
heard  the  honourable  member  assert  that  the 
warmth  with  which  he  had  spoken  was  feigned, 
although  he  stood  there  charged  with  having 
caused  the  death  of  two  innocent  men.  "  It  is 
certainly  very  possible  to  manifest  great  vehemence 
of  action,  and  yet  not  be  in  a  great  passion.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  is  possible  to  be  exceedingly 
cold,  indifferent,  and  composed  in  your  manner, 
and  yet  to  cherish  very  acrimonious  feelings.  Not- 
withstanding the  provocation  of  the  honourable 
gentleman,  I  will  not  deal  so  harshly  with  him  as  he 
has  dealt  with  me.  He  undertakes  to  assure  the 
House  that  my  vehemence  was  all  pretended,  and 
warmth  all  simulated.  I,  on  the  contrary,  will  do 
him  entire  justice ;  I  do  believe  that  his  bitterness 
was  not  simulated,  but  that  it  was  entirely  sin- 
cere." *  He  never  complained,  he  said,  of  hostile 

*  O'Connor's  "  Life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,"  p.  265. 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.    245 

conduct ;  every  one  had  a  right  to  act  as  he  chose ; 
but  he  complained  of  the  expression  which  Disraeli 
had  used  in  the  course  of  his  speech,  that  he  had 
spoken  in  a  friendly  spirit.  He  was  quite  ready  in 
debate  to  meet  his  adversaries  in  honourable  con- 
flict with  open  front ;  but  it  was  certainly  most  un- 
becoming, although  it  might  be  inevitable,  for  a 
man  to  be  stabbed  in  the  back  from  the  benches  of 
his  own  party  when  he  least  expected  it,  and  ac- 
companied, moreover,  with  the  assurance  that  it 
was  done  in  a  friendly  spirit.  And  with  his  clear, 
powerful  voice  he  quoted  to  the  House  the  well- 
known  lines  in  which  Canning  has  parodied  the  old 
theme,  "  God,  save  me  from  my  friends ! " 

"Give  me  the  avowed,  erect,  and  manly  foe; 
Firm  I  can  meet,  perhaps  can  turn  the  blow ; 
But  of  all  plagues,  good  Heaven,  Thy  wrath  can  send. 
Save  me,  oh,  save  me  from  the  candid  friend  '  " 

The  answer  was  cutting;  it  hit  the  right  nail  on  the 
head,  while  it  laid  bare  the  animosity  concealed  be- 
neath Disraeli's  affected  coolness,  at  the  same  time 
protesting  against  his  misrepresentation  in  speaking 
of  such  a  criticism  as  made  in  a  friendly  spirit.  But 
let  us  compare  this  skirmish  with  the  vigour  of  the 
ironical  attack  with  which  Disraeli,  a  week  after- 
wards, ended  a  long  speech : 

14  If  the  right  honourable  gentleman  may  find  it 
sometimes  convenient  to  reprove  a  supporter  on  his 


246  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

right  flank,  perhaps  we  deserve  it.  I,  for  one,  am 
quite  prepared  to  bow  to  the  rod ;  but  really,  if 
the  right  honourable  gentleman,  instead  of  having 
recourse  to  obloquy,  would  only  stick  to  quotation, 
he  may  rely  upon  it  it  would  be  a  safer  weapon.  It 
is  one  he  always  wields  with  the  hand  of  a  master ; 
and  when  he  does  appeal  to  any  authority,  in  prose 
or  verse,  he  is  sure  to  be  successful,  partly  because 
he  seldom  quotes  a  passage  that  has  not  previously 
received  the  meed  of  Parliamentary  approbation, 
and  partly  and  principally  because  his  quotations 
are  so  happy.  The  right  honourable  gentleman 
knows  what  the  introduction  of  a  great  name  does 
in  debate — how  important  is  its  effect,  and  occa- 
sionally how  electrical.  He  never  refers  to  any 
author  who  is  not  great,  and  sometimes  who  is  not 
loved — Canning,  for  example.  That  is  a  name 
never  to  be  mentioned,  I  am  sure,  in  the  House 
of  Commons  without  emotion.  We  all  admire  his 
genius ;  we  all — at  least  most  of  us — deplore  his 
untimely  end ;  and  we  all  sympathize  with  him  in 
his  fierce  struggle  with  supreme  prejudice  and  sub- 
lime mediocrity,  with  inveterate  foes,  and  with 
'  candid  friends.'  The  right  honourable  gentleman 
may  be  sure  that  a  quotation  from  such  an  author- 
ity will  always  tell — some  lines,  for  example,  upon 
"friendship,  written  by  Mr.  Canning,  and  quoted  by 
the  right  honourable  gentleman.  The  theme — the 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.    247 

poet — the  speaker — what  a  felicitous  combination  ! 
Its  effect  in  debate  must  be  overwhelming;  and  I 
am  sure,  were  it  addressed  to  me,  all  that  would 
remain  for  me  would  be  thus  publicly  to  congra- 
tulate the  right  honourable  gentleman,  not  only 
on  his  ready  memory,  but  on  his  courageous  con- 
science." * 

In  reading  this  speech,  one  hears  the  tone  in 
which  every  sentence  was  uttered,  and  seems  to  see 
the  impression  it  made  on  the  House.  At  first, 
according  to  Disraeli's  wont,  his  manner  of  speaking 
was  low  and  monotonous,  his  countenance  impas- 
sive, grave  as  a  mask,  so  that  it  formed  the  fitting 
background  to  the  unconscious  irony  of  his  words. 
The  House  does  not  yet  know  what  he  is  aiming  at. 
The  beginning  of  the  speech  was  in  a  totally  differ- 
ent style,  and  the  details  of  the  altercation  with 
Peel  a  week  before  had  been  forgotten.  Why  this 
ironical  laudation  of  upholding  party  discipline  by 
means  of  quotations?  Then,  with  a  sudden  flash, 
Canning's  name  is  mentioned,  carelessly  thrown  in, 
with  a  "  for  example,"  but  with  a  somewhat  linger- 
ing emphasis  on  the  word.  The  speaker  becomes 
slightly  warmer,  and  when  he  expresses  his  admira- 
tion for  the  struggle  of  the  late  great  statesman  with 
"  sublime  mediocrity  " — these  words  spoken  without 

*"  Benjamin  Disraeli,  Earl  of  Beacon sfield  :  A  Biography,"  vol. 
i.  p.  527. 


248  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

any  preceding  pause,  but  with  a  fugitive  glance  at 
Peel — a  thrill  of  eager  attention  passes  through  the 
House.  This  attention  is  divided  between  the  Prime 
Minister,  who,  with  quiet  dignity,  but  with  a  some- 
what forced  and  uncertain  smile  on  his  lips,  thinks 
he  can  despise  his  adversary,  and  even  wishes  it  to 
be  thought  that  he  is  amused  at  his  harmless  mis- 
chief, and  the  speaker,  who  stands  there  with  a 
courage  that  fears  no  requital,  and  an  icy  coldness 
which  the  laughter  with  which  his  direct  ebullitions 
of  feeling  are  always  assailed  has  long  since  com- 
municated to  him.  With  one  thumb  in  his  arm- 
hole,  and  without  moving  a  finger  of  the  other 
hand  ;  by  the  masterly  dumb-show  that  accompa- 
nies his  words ;  by  a  fleeting  expression  of  counte- 
nance ;  by  a  slight  intonation  of  his  voice,  which  is 
fully  under  his  control,  he  contrives  to  express  a  con- 
tempt which  good  manners  and  Parliamentary  usage 
made  it  impossible  to  clothe  in  words,  and  treats 
his  all-powerful  opponent  like  a  helpless  victim. 
With  cat-like  self-restraint  Disraeli  had  at  first  de- 
clared himself  willing  to  bow  beneath  the  rod,  with 
tiger-like  caress  he  had  praised  Peel's  apt  quotation, 
but  from  the  Mephistophelian  tone  you  seemed  to 
hear  the  words :  "  Mediocre  man  !  false  friend  !  who 
worried  the  great  Canning  to  death  ;  how  darest 
thou  to  adopt  his  words  about  friends  ?  how  canst 
thou  be  so  dense,  so  obtuse,  as  not  to  perceive  that 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.    249 

thou  standest  there  with  his  own  branding  iron  in 
thy  hand,  and  with  ludicrous  precision  stampest  it 
on  thy  own  brow  ?  "  And  the  House  which,  instead 
of  this,  heard  the  words :  "  The  theme — the  poet — 
the  speaker — what  a  happy  combination  ! "  could 
not  suppress  a  smile,  notwithstanding  the  nervous 
quiver  on  Peel's  lips ;  it  rose  to  loud  laughter  at  the 
comic  attempts  of  Peel  to  conceal  his  annoyance  at 
the  offensive  hilarity  of  his  party ;  was  increased  by 
the  imperturbable  gravity  of  the  speaker,  and  his 
apparent  unconsciousness  of  the  effect  he  was  pro- 
ducing; and  finally,  by  the  mixed  feelings  of  the 
laughers  themselves:  the  curious  sense  of  annoyance 
that  they  were  laughing  at  their  own  stringent  lead- 
er ;  the  relief,  for  a  variety,  of  having  a  good  laugh 
at  him ;  the  universal  love  of  mischief,  and  the  pleas- 
ure for  once  of  listening  to  malicious  wit.  But  no 
sooner  was  the  laughter  over,  than  the  calm,  clear, 
monotonous  voice  was  heard  again  uttering  its  pe- 
riods with  the  cold  repose  of  a  machine,  as  if  the 
speaker  were  far  too  sublimely  lifted  above  all  hu- 
man passions  to  be  in  the  slightest  degree  influ- 
enced by  what  was  going  on  before  his  eyes.  Other 
people  could  not  help  laughing;  he  did  not  move  a 
muscle  of  his  face  unless  he  chose.  They  could  not 
command  either  their  moods  or  their  countenance?, 
while  he  stood,  slightly  swaying  the  upper  part  of 
his  body  backwards  and  forwards,  hurling  forth  his 
ii* 


250  Lord  Beaconsficld. 

sarcasms  with  lofty  indifference ;  he  was  lashing  the 
leader  of  the  Lower  House,  and  the  first  man  in  the 
Government,  and  he  was  performing  the  operation 
amidst  the  involuntary  laughter  of  that  leader's  own 
party.  Oh,  he  was  acquainted  with  this  laughter ! 
He  had  taken  his  revenge ;  these  hilarious  gentle- 
men were  not  men  of  his  strength  of  mind. 

The  subject  of  greatest  interest  in  England  dur- 
ing those  years  which  chiefly  occupied  the  atten- 
tion of  Parliament,  and  excited  the  passions  of  the 
people,  was  the  question  of  Free  Trade,  or  Protec- 
tion, especially  the  subject  of  the  maintenance, 
alteration,  or  abolition  of  the  Corn  Laws.  The  To- 
ries, who  had  raised  Sir  Robert  Peel  to  power,  were 
Protectionists,  and  Peel  had  the  majority  in  both 
Houses.  Peel  was,  in  the  almost  unanimous  judg- 
ment of  those  who  knew  him  best,  not  only  a  great 
and  able  statesman,  but  one  entirely  actuated  by 
love  of  truth  and  justice.  He  had  had  equal  expe- 
rience in  the  management  of  English  sovereigns 
and  English  Parliaments,  and  had  a  masterly  way  of 
tuning  a  political  assembly,  and  making  it  give  forth 
the  tones  which  he  desired  ;  under  his  leadership  it 
was  like  a  violin  in  the  hands  of  a  master.  But  as  a 
politician,  he  was  wanting  in  principles  and  in  fore- 
sight. It  was  one  of  his  peculiarities  to  make  obsti- 
nate resistance  to  every  new  measure,  and  when,  in 
spite  of  his  opposition,  it  had  become  popular,  to 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.    251 

take  it  up  and  carry  it  out  to  the  utmost.  This  had 
been  the  case  with  the  measures  introduced  year 
after  year  in  vain  by  Sir  Samuel  Romilly,  for  the 
mitigation  of  the  barbarous  Penal  Laws,  which  Peel, 
as  leader  of  the  Conservatives,  had  always  opposed 
as  philosophic,  sentimental  innovations.*  The  same 
thing  had  happened  in  1829,  when  he  took  the 
emancipation  of  the  Catholics,  to  which  he  had 
been  strongly  opposed,  into  his  own  hands,  and  car- 
ried it  through.  He  took  the  same  course  now. 
After  personally  heading  the  opposition  to  the 
Anti-Corn  Law  League,  and  having  sought  and 
found  support  in  a  Tory  party  who  had  placed  him 
at  their  head  expressly  that  he  might  oppose  it  to 
the  uttermost,  in  1845  ne  suddenly  left  his  support- 
ers in  the  lurch,  came  forward  as  an  advocate  from 
conviction  of  the  principle  he  had  so  vehemently 
assailed,  and  connected  his  name  with  the  necessary 
popular  reform.  That  the  abolition  of  the  Corn 
Laws  had  at  that  period  become  an  inevitable  neces- 
sity, is  now  the  almost  universal  opinion  of  those 
who  understand  the  subject,  and,  as  far  as  I  can 
judge,  European  opinion  is  entirely  in  Sir  Robert 
Peel's  favour.  By  joining  Cobden's  party,  he  shat- 
tered at  one  blow  the  organized  resistance  of  the 
Protectionists,  and  made  the  triumph  of  Free  Trade 

*  Compare  G.  Brandes,  "  Die  Hauptstromungen  in  der  Literatur 
des  19  Jahrhunderts,"  vol.  iv.  p.  49. 


252  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

inevitable.  But  it  is  not  difficult  to  understand  that 
those  whose  cause  he  had  undertaken  did  not  re- 
gard the  change  in  a  favourable  light.  He  had 
called  it  the  sacred  cause  of  Protection ;  he  had  de- 
clared that  he  would  rather  be  the  leader  of  the 
country  gentlemen  of  England  than  possess  the 
confidence  of  kings.  The  men  whose  confidence  he 
had  valued  more  highly  than  that  of  the  sovereigns 
of  Europe,  and  whom  he  a  few  years  later  disap- 
pointed, could  not  possibly  pass  upon  him  the  leni- 
ent judgment  of  modern  political  economists.  Still, 
apart  from  mere  party  interests,  Sir  Robert  Peel's 
course  of  action,  considered  from  an  ideal  point  of 
view,  does  not  appear  to  me  quite  justifiable.  That 
a  party  leader  under  a  Parliamentary  Constitution 
should  be  placed  at  the  helm,  can  only  signify  that 
the  nation,  particularly  that  portion  of  it  which  sup- 
ports him,  desires  to  afford  him  the  opportunity  of 
carrying  out  his  principles  into  practice  in  legis- 
lation ;  if  he  finds  it  necessary,  as  head  of  the  Gov- 
ernment, to  change  his  principles,  he  is  in  duty 
bound  to  resign  his  office  ;  for  power  should  be  the 
reward  of  political  sagacity,  forethought,  and  suc- 
cess, and  he  who  possesses  these  qualifications 
should  also  taste  the  sweets  of  power. 

If  in  this  case  it  had  been  only  the  political  and 
not  also  the  pecuniary  interests  of  the  Tories  that 
were  at  stake,  Peel  would  undoubtedly  have  found 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Feel.    253 

it  possible,  with  his  great  Parliamentary  influence, 
to  gain  over  his  followers  by  degrees  to  his  altered 
opinions ;  but  as  matters  stood,  he  had  no  hope  of 
getting  the  Protectionists  personally  interested  in 
the  Corn  Laws  to  come  round ;  he  did  not  even  try 
to  prepare  them  for  the  change  by  private  commu- 
nications, for,  eminent  and  eloquent  as  he  was  in 
open  debate,  he  was  shy,  awkward,  and  taciturn  in 
personal  intercourse  with  his  party. 

His  Government  had  begun  with  some  modifica- 
tions in  the  protective  duties,  including  some  unim- 
portant changes  affecting  agriculture.  Although 
Disraeli  upheld  the  Corn  Laws,  he  asserted,  in  the 
early  part  of  the  fourth  decade,  as  a  faithful  fol- 
lower of  Peel,  that  Free  Trade  principles  were  not  a 
privilege  of  the  Whigs,  were  not  invented  by  them, 
but  were  the  good  old  Tory  principles  of  Pitt.  He 
did,  it  is  true,  give  the  phrase  "  Free  Trade "  so 
wide  a  scope  that  even  Protectionists  became  Free 
Traders,  and  at  the  same  time  he  so  restricted  its 
meaning  that  absolute  Free  Traders  were  only  ex- 
crescences of  the  principle.  It  must  nof  be  forgot- 
ten, he  added  that  the  term  "Free  Trade"  was 
formerly  used  as  opposed  to  the  old  colonial  sys- 
tem, while  it  is  now  used  by  Cobden  and  his  party 
in  a  totally  different  sense,  and  means  that  you 
shall  "contend  with  open  harbours  against  the  hos- 
tile customs  tariffs  of  other  countries."  By  the  Free 


254  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

Trade  that  he  advocated,  he  seems  at  that  period 
to  have  meant  a  moderate  kind  of  Protection,  or, 
more  correctly  speaking,  he  was  tacking  about,  not 
quite  clear  what  Sir  Robert  Peel  had  in  view,  but 
firmly  resolved  not  to  betray  the  cause  he  had  em- 
braced at  his  election,  and  which  he  had  promised 
to  advocate.  But  from  the  moment  when  Disraeli 
felt  certain  of  what  Peel's  real  intentions  were,  and 
he  foresaw  them  when  no  one  of  his  party  would 
give  credit  to  his  prognostications — he  indicated  his 
suspicions  in  his  speeches  in  Parliament  against 
Peel,  and  in  the  Free  Trade  debates  he  took  up  the 
cause  of  the  ultra-Conservative  Protectionists. 

The  Tory  party  soon  fell  into  confusion  amidst 
what  was  taking  place ;  it  split  into  sections,  some 
of  which  continued  their  adhesion  to  Peel  from  con- 
viction, and  some  from  habit ;  while  the  landowning 
interest  looked  about  for  a  new  and  more  trust- 
worthy leader.  Disraeli,  who  had  early  begun  to 
place  his  powers  at  the  service  of  the  landowners, 
and  regarded  their  cause  rather  as  a  weapon  than 
merely  a  cause,  now  practically  became  their  leader. 

The  time  was  come  at  last  when  he  could  gain 
real  importance  in  Parliament ;  a  speechless,  con- 
founded, betrayed,  and  angry  host  wanted  an  organ 
for  their  passion,  a  defender  of  their  interests,  a 
brain  to  think  and  project  for  them ;  and  there  was 
no  other  than  he.  He  presented  himself,  without 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.    255 

directly  offering  his  services,  as  mouthpiece  of  the 
speechless,  as  head  of  those  who  had  lost  their 
leader.  He  had  hitherto  had  only  a  slender  aris- 
tocratic staff.  Young  England  was  an  excellent 
beginning,  but  it  was  only  a  beginning ;  its  signifi- 
cance in  the  first  place  was  not  very  great,  and  in 
the  second  it  had  more  of  a  social,  and  to  some  ex- 
tent literary,  than  a  political,  character.  Young 
England  formed,  so  to  speak,  a  little  court  round 
Disraeli ;  but  in  spite  of  his  court,  he  had  been,  up 
to  this  time,  "  a  king  without  land."  The  party  of 
the  landed  gentry  and  the  landowners  brought  him 
the  "  land  "  for  his  pretendership  to  the  crown.  It 
was,  as  before  indicated,  not  a  very  intelligent  set 
which  now  joined  him,  but  they  were  members  of  a 
numerous  and  influential  class.  The  landed  gentry, 
even  now,  far  exceed  in  numbers  any  other  class 
in  the  Lower  House ;  first,  because  the  country 
population  sends  a  number  of  members  for  the 
counties ;  secondly,  because  even  now,  strange  as  it 
may  appear,  half  the  boroughs  are  represented  by 
eminent  landowners,  for,  according  to  British  preju- 
dices, the  possession  of  land  confers  a  far  higher 
social  standing  than  trade,  manufactures,  or  learn- 
ing. To  represent,  therefore,  the  landowning  inter- 
est, means  to  represent  a  very  powerful  interest, 
a  political  great  power.  But  this  great  power  often 
requires  to  have  a  leader  from  beyond  its  borders, 


256  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

because  the  landowning  interest  has,  as  has  been 
well  set  forth  by  Bagehot,  adopted  a  political  watch- 
word which  makes  it  stupid. 

"  The  counties  not  only  elect  landowners,  which 
is  natural,  and  perhaps  wise,  but  also  elect  only 
landowners  of  their  own  county,  which  is  absurd. 
There  is  no  free  trade  in  agricultural  mind ;  each 
county  prohibits  the  import  of  able  men  from  other 
counties.  This  is  why  eloquent  sceptics  —  Boling- 
broke  and  Disraeli — have  been  so  apt  to  lead  the 
unsceptical  Tories.  They  will  have  people  with  a 
great  piece  of  land  in  a  particular  spot,  and  of 
course  these  people  generally  cannot  speak,  and 
often  cannot  think.  And  so  eloquent  men  who 
laugh  at  the  party  come  to  lead  the  party."  * 

At  first  sight,  Disraeli's  position  at  the  head  of  the 
landowners  strikes  one  as  strange  and  paradoxical. 
He,  who  had  inherited  no  estate,  whose  ancestors 
had  been  legally  disqualified  from  acquiring  landed 
property,  who  was  not  even  a  county  member ;  the 
man  who  was  once  a  dandy,  and  now  a  drawing- 
room  lion,  the  romance  writer  of  great  cities,  figur- 
ing as  the  friend  of  the  agricultural  labourer,  and 
promising  protection  to  the  burly  farmer !  But  on 
closer  inspection  it  was  perfectly  reasonable,  and 
the  paradox  from  Disraeli's  point  of  view  was  abso- 

*  Bagehot's  "  English  Constitution,"  p.  201. 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.    257 

lutely  logical.  From  the  first  he  had  suffered  from 
being  half  a  foreigner  in  England ;  he  must  above 
all  things  become  thoroughly  English,  must  take 
deep  root  in  English  soil.  It  is  for  this  reason  that 
in  this  case,  as  in  every  other  in  his  political  career, 
we  find  him  adopting  the  indigenous  English  point 
of  view.  According  to  the  prevailing  opinion,  the 
townspeople,  compared  with  the  agricultural  labour- 
ers, were  citizens  of  the  world ;  this  notion  was  an 
incentive  to  Disraeli  to  take  the  side  of  the  land 
party  in  every  conflict  between  town  and  county. 
We  have  found  him  saying  years  before  that  the 
manufacturers  and  industrial  classes  could  emigrate 
to  Egypt  if  they  pleased,  while  the  agriculturists 
were  the  true-born  patriots  without  whom  no  nation 
could  prosper. 

It  had  now  become  a  political  rule  with  Disraeli, 
in  order,  so  to  speak,  to  efface  the  stain  of  his  birth, 
always  and  everywhere  to  advocate  the  national,  or 
rather  ultra-national,  view  ;  and  he  was,  therefore, 
predisposed  to  make  that  cause  his  own  which  bore 
a  national  superscription  as  opposed  to  the  cos- 
mopolitanism of  the  Free  Traders,  and  whose  ad- 
vocates were  simply  national  egotists,  and  cared 
nothing  for  any  nonsense  about  the  brotherhood  of 
nations  or  doctrines  about  the  common  interests  of 
humanity.  Although  the  Protectionists  were  per- 
sonally interested  in  the  Corn  Laws,  the  question 


258  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

was  one  of  the  protection  of  national  produce,  and 
Disraeli,  who  sprang  from  a  foreign  stock,  made  it  a 
point  of  honour,  on  this  occasion  and  ever  after,  to 
be,  if  possible,  more  English  than  Englishmen  them- 
selves. 

• 

In  their  zeal  for  a  principle  which  they  soon 
adopted  as  an  absolute  one,  and  almost  a  religion, 
the  Free  Traders  went  so  far  that  they  sometimes 
overshot  the  mark.  As,  for  example,  slavery  had 
been  abolished  at  great  cost,  it  could  only  be  con- 
sidered reasonable  to  afford  the  English  planters  in 
the  West  Indies  some  protection  by  a  duty  upon 
the  sugar  produced  in  the  slave  states  of  America. 
But  in  1843,  Cobden,  on  theoretic  grounds,  brought 
forward  a  motion  for  the  abolition  of  the  duty. 
Disraeli  took  occasion  to  protest  that  the  interests 
of  the  English  colonies  would  be  sacrificed  to  those 
of  the  slave  states,  and  to  insist  that,  on  the  whole 
question,  British  interests  for  British  statesmen 
should  have  precedence  of  all  others. 

He  thus  became  the  leader  of  the  Protectionists, 
but  as  yet  without  personally  and  nominally  occupy- 
ing the  vacant  post.  For  this  a  man  of  rank  was 
required,  and  he  was  soon  found  in  Lord  George 
Bentinck,  an  energetic  young  nobleman,  not  with- 
out talents,  and  the  first  sportsman  of  the  day.  He 
was  personally  convinced  of  the  excellence  of  the 
protective  system,  and  personally  indignant  at  Peel's 


f 

•     -qf 

The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.   259 

defection,  so  he  sacrificed  his  chivalrous  tastes  to  his 
convictions  of  duty.  He  sold  his  stud,  gave  a  last 
longing  look  at  his  racers,  which  always  won,  and, 
without  any  ambitious  motive,  undertook  the  post 
of  general  of  the  scattered  Tory  forces,  with  Dis- 
raeli as  chief  of  his  staff. 

The  point  of  view  from  which  the  present  Lord 
Beaconsfield  at  that  time  looked  at  the  subject, 
seems  to  me  to  have  been  this:  he  considered  it 
both  impolitic  and  unjust  to  abolish  the  duty  on 
corn  all  at  once,  although  he  fully  perceived  that  it 
was  mischievous  ;  he  had  no  faith  in  the  beneficial 
working  of  absolute  Free  Trade  ;  in  relation  to  the 
philosophical,  scientific  Free  Traders,  he  considered 
himself  to  be  the  representative  of  the  historical 
school  in  politics,  of  which  he  had  been  an  adherent 
from  the  first ;  he  was  not  blind  to  the  egotism  of 
the  agricultural  party,  but  he  perceived  a  good  deal 
of  masked  egotism  behind  the  humanitarian  watch- 
word of  the  manufacturers  and  trading  classes,  who 
screamed  themselves  hoarse  about  the  abolition  of 
the  duty  on  corn  for  the  sake  of  the  poor,  while 
they  got  as  much  as  possible  out  of  their  own  work- 
men ;  and  finally,  he  hated  and  despised  Sir  Robert 
Peel.  If  the  Corn  Laws  were  to  be  abolished,  it 
ought  to  be  done  by  Cobden,  not  by  a  Minister  like 
Peel,  who  was  bound  by  previous  pledges.  Disraeli 
would  not  or  could  not  see  that  Peel  was  only  sacri- 


Jl 

260  Lord  Beaconsficld. 

ficing  the  lesser  duty  to  his  party  to  the  greater 
duty  to  the  nation,  for  he  was  of  opinion  that  he  was 
actuated  by  the  vain  motive  of  wishing  to  associate 
his  name  with  this  great  popular  economic  move- 
ment. There  is  no  part  of  Disraeli's  career  which 
has  been  so  much  attacked  and  censured  as  this. 
I  have  no  desire  to  defend  his  unenviable  position 
as  leader  of  the  guardians  of  the  Corn  Laws,  distin- 
guished by  their  broad  backs  and  fat  acres.  I  only 
wish  to  indicate  the  light  in  which  he  himself  saw 
his  opposition  to  Peel  as  advocate  of  their  abolition. 

Disraeli  may  also  be  impugned  for  having,  in  the 
long  series  of  speeches  which  from  this  time  forward 
he  made  against  Peel,  always  taken  the  ground  of 
making  Peel's  conversion  ridiculous,  and  having 
never  argued  the  essential  question  of  the  working 
of  the  Corn  Laws.  "  The  right  honourable  gentle- 
man caught  the  Whigs  bathing,  and  walked  away 
with  their  clothes.  He  has  left  them  in  the  full  en- 
joyment of  their  Liberal  position,  and  he  is  himself 
a  strict  Conservative  of  their  garments."  * 

In  another  place  he  is  no  less  sarcastic  :  "  I  look 
on  the  right  honourable  gentleman  as  a  man  who 
has  tamed  the  Shrew  of  Liberalism  by  her  own  tac- 
tics. He  is  the  political  Petruchio,  who  has  outbid 
you  all."  f 

*  O'Connor's  "  Life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,"  p.  267.  f  Ibid. 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.   261 

In  another  passage  he  ironically  reproaches  the 
Protectionists  in  a  similar  strain  for  complaining  of 
Peel's  conduct.  "  There  is  no  doubt,"  he  went  on, 
"  a  difference  in  the  right  honourable  gentleman's 
demeanour  as  leader  of  the  Opposition,  and  as  Min- 
ister of  the  Crown.  But  that's  the  old  story ;  you 
must  not  contrast  too  strongly  the  hours  of  court- 
ship with  the  years  of  possession."  * 

And  with  an  orator's  intuitive  facility  of  illustra- 
tion, in  one  of  his  great  speeches  he  paraphrases 
Peel's  position  in  a  parable. 

"  Sir,  there  is  a  difficulty  in  finding  a  parallel  to 
the  position  of  the  right  honourable  gentleman  in 
any  part  of  history.  The  only  parallel  which  I  can 
find  is  an  incident  in  the  late  war  in  the  Levant, 
which  was  terminated  by  the  policy  of  the  noble 
lord  opposite.  I  remember  when  that  great  strug- 
gle was  taking  place,  when  the  existence  of  the 
Turkish  Empire  was  at  stake,  the  late  sultan,  a  man 
of  great  energy  and  fertile  in  resources,  was  deter- 
mined to  fit  out  an  immense  fleet  to  maintain  his 
empire.  Accordingly  a  vast  armament  was  col- 
lected. It  consisted  of  many  of  the  finest  ships 
that  were  ever  built.  The  crews  were  picked  men, 
the  officers  were  the  ablest  that  could  be  found,  and 
both  officers  and  men  were  rewarded  before  they 

*  O'Connor's  "  Life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,"  p.  270. 


262  Lord  Bcaconsfield. 

fought.  There  never  was  an  armament  which  left 
the  Dardanelles  similarly  appointed  since  the  day 
of  Solyman  the  Great. 

"  The  sultan  personally  witnessed  the  departure 
of  the  fleet ;  all  the  muftis  here  prayed  for  the  suc- 
cess of  the  last  general  election.  Away  went  the 
fleet ;  but  what  was  the  sultan's  consternation  when 
the  lord  high  admiral  steered  at  once  into  the  ene- 
my's port !  Now,  sir,  the  lord  high  admiral,  on  that 
occasion,  was  very  much  misrepresented.  He,  too, 
was  called  a  traitor ;  and  he,  too,  vindicated  him- 
self. '  True  it  is,'  said  he,  '  I  did  place  myself  at 
the  head  of  this  valiant  armada ;  true  it  is  that  my 
sovereign  embraced  me;  true  it  is  that  all  the  muftis 
in  the  empire  offered  up  prayers  for  my  success; 
but  I  have  an  objection  to  war.  I  see  no  use  in 
prolonging  the  struggle,  and  the  only  reason  I  had 
for  accepting  the  command  was  that  I  might  termi- 
nate the  contest  by  betraying  my  master.'  And,  sir, 
these  reasons,  offered  by  a  man  of  great  plausibility, 
of  vast  adroitness,  have  had  their  effect,  for — you 
may  be  surprised  at  it — but  I  assure  you  it  is  a  fact, 
which  by  the  way  the  gallant  officer  opposite  (Com- 
modore Napier)  can  te.stify,  that  he  is  at  this  mo- 
ment the  First  Lord  of  the  Admiralty  at  Constanti- 
nople, under  the  new  reign."  * 

*  O'Connor's  "  Life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,"  p.  290. 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.   263 

It  will  be  observed  that  all  these  caustic  and 
witty  sallies  move  within  the  same  circle.  It  is 
Peel's  passion  for  appropriating  the  ideas  of  others 
that  is  ridiculed,  his  want  of  originality  and  princi- 
ple, his  betrayal  of  the  party  which  had  raised  him 
to  power,  and  to  which  he  had  pledged  his  word ; 
but  of  the  essence  of  the  subject,  the  real  question 
of  the  right  of  the  aristocratic  landowners  to  tax  all 
England  for  the  benefit  of  the  farmers,  there  is  little 
or  nothing.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  Disraeli, 
even  in  1845,  foresaw  the  perils,  now  coming  to  the 
front,  which  threatened  English  agriculture  from 
competition  with  America,  but  in  the  Parliamentary 
debates  he  dealt  exclusively  with  the  formal  aspect 
of  the  question,  the  renegade  conduct  of  Sir  Robert 
Peel. 

Meanwhile,  the  real  question  was  becoming  more 
urgent.  Simultaneously  with  the  failure  of  the 
harvest  in  1845,  'm  England  and  Scotland,  the  po- 
tato disease  broke  out  in  Ireland,  and  threatened 
the  wretched  population  with  famine.  Under  these 
circumstances,  the  measure  first  proposed  of  admit- 
ting corn  free  from  the  colonies  was  insufficient ;  the 
Anti-Corn  Law  League  agitated  the  question  to  the 
utmost ;  the  Whig  leaders,  who  had  previously  ad- 
vocated a  moderate  Corn  Law,  openly  declared  for 
absolute  and  immediate  abolition  ;  a  large  assembly 
in  Dublin  declared  the  adhesion  of  the  Irish  to  the 


264  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

Free  Trade  programme ;  and  finally,  civil  war  was 
at  the  doors.  Sir  Robert  Peel  then,  in  January, 
1846,  laid  a  Bill  before  the  Lower  House  for  the  to- 
tal abolition  of  the  duty  on  corn,  which,  after  vehe- 
ment debates  for  months  in  both  Houses,  passed 
into  law. 

Peel  still  maintained  his  position,  but  his  power 
was  shattered.  The  details  relating  to  his  situation 
and  that  of  his  opponents  may  be  seen  in  Lord 
Beaconsfield's  "  Life  of  Lord  George  Bentinck." 
His  opponents  had  hoped  to  the  last  moment  that 
the  Bill  would  be  thrown  out  in  the  Lords  ;  but 
as  this  hope  was  frustrated,  in  great  measure  by 
the  conversion  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  hope, 
as  Lord  Beaconsfield  confesses  with  the  candour 
of  Contarini  Fleming,  was  succeeded  by  revenge. 
"The  battle  itself  was  lost,  but  he  who  by  his 
treachery  had  caused  the  defeat  should  at  all  events 
suffer  for  it." 

A  whole  Parliamentary  recess  was,  as  is  stated 
in  the  "  Life  of  Bentinck,"  spent  in  devising  plans  to 
turn  Peel  out,  and  in  that  life  the  bold  intrigues 
may  be  traced  by  which  his  fall  was  at  last  effected 
by  the  author  of  "  Vivian  Grey,"  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  the  fanatical  and  unscrupulous  Lord 
George  Bentinck,  on  whom  he  could  fully  rely.  The 
final  plan  adopted  was  as  shabby  as  it  was  effectual ; 
it  consisted  in  inducing  Lord  George  Bentinck,  as 


The  Corn  Laws  and  the  Contest  with  Peel.    265 

leader  of  the  Tories,  and  Lord  John  Russell,  as 
leader  of  the  Whigs,  to  join  in  opposing  Peel's  Bill 
in  the  interests  of  public  safety  in  Ireland,  on  the 
second  reading,  both  Lords  having,  on  the  first 
reading,  promised  their  "  sincere  and  hearty  sup- 
port." This  desperate  measure  was  effectual.  In 
June,  1846,  Sir  Robert  Peel  was  in  a  minority,  and 
laid  down  his  portfolio. 

A  man  who,  like  Lord  George  Bentinck,  only 
assumed  the  leadership  >  of  the  Tories  against  his 
will  and  for  a  time,  was  not  likely  to  take  Peel's 
place  with  his  former  followers.  He  was,  both 
by  birth  and  family  connection,  as  brother-in-law  of 
Canning,  no  less  than  from  his  liberal  religious 
opinions,  a  Whig,  and  had  only  joined  the  Tories 
from  interest  in  the  corn  duties.  He  had  been  be- 
sides, from  his  youth  upwards,  above  all  things,  a 
sportsman,  and  when  he  entered  the  House  late  in 
the  evening,  his  red  hunting-coat  was  carelessly  con- 
cealed by  a  light  grey  paletot.  Then  he  was  a  hesi- 
tating and  laborious  speaker.  Through  him,  and, 
so  to  speak,  as  his  mouthpiece,  Disraeli  now  led  the 
Tory  party  for  about  a  year,  until,  in  1847,  Lord 
George  Bentinck  withdrew  from  the  leadership,  as 
it  appears  from  disapproval  of  Disraeli's  arguments 
about  the  Bill  for  the  emancipation  of  the  Jews. 
He  argued,  as  usual,  for  Semiticism,  instead  of,  as 
Bentinck  wished,  in  favour  of  the  principle  of  relig- 
12 


266  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

ious  liberty.  For  a  short  period,  the  clique  of  Tory 
Protectionists,  who  had  fallen  with  Peel,  were  with- 
out a  leader,  for  they  rebelled  against  acknowledg- 
ing as  their  chief  the  commoner  of  Jewish  extraction 
and  dubious  notoriety  when  second  in  command, 
and  who  had  been  formerly  a  Radical ;  but  by  the 
sudden  death  of  Lord  George  Bentinck,  in  1848, 
Disraeli"  became  the  actual  advocate  as  well  as 
the  elected  leader  of  the  party,  and  had  thus  sur- 
mounted the  first  arduous  steps  on  the  path  to 
power. 

Up  to  this  time,  although  leader  of  the  land- 
owners, he  had  represented  the  borough  of  Shrews- 
bury in  Parliament.  It  was  necessary  to  put  an 
end  to  this  absurd  position.  At  the  request  of  nu- 
merous electors,  he  offered  himself  as  a  candidate 
for  Buckinghamshire,  in  which  county  he  had  be- 
come a  landowner  by  the  purchase  of  the  estate  of 
Hughenden  Manor.  In  1847  he  was  elected  mem- 
ber for  the  county,  by  a  large  number  of  votes,  and 
continued  to  represent  it  until  1876,  when  he  retired 
from  the  House  of  Commons. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

"  TANCRED." 

IN  Lord  Beaconsfield's  "  Life  of  Bentinck,"  there 
is  a  passage  referring  to  Peel,  in  penning  which  he 
was  obviously  thinking  of  himself.  "  An  aristocracy 
hesitates  before  it  yields  its  confidence,  but  it  never 
does  so  grudgingly.  .  .  .  An  aristocracy  is  rather 
apt  to  exaggerate  the  qualities  and  magnify  the  im- 
portance of  a  plebeian  leader."  * 

Do  these  words  state  a  fact  or  express  a  wish 
and  a  hint  ?  The  new  leader  was  evidently  followed 
with  reluctance,  sometimes  almost  with  aversion. 
It  was  his  descent  that  stood  most  in  his  way ;  on 
every  collision  with  those  around  him,  it  had  been 
brought  up  against  him,  and  so  it  would  surely  be 
in  the  future.  Disraeli's  object  was,  therefore,  to 
attack  the  prejudice  against  the  Jewish  race  once 
for  all,  and  so  thoroughly  to  put  an  end  to  it,  that, 
at  all  events,  as  a  Christian  prejudice,  it  should  for- 
ever be  reduced  to  an  absurdity. 

A  vigorous   attack   had   been   made   upon  it  in 

*  "  Life  of  Lord  George  Bentinck,"  p.  318. 

267 


268  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

"Coningsby."  Sidonia  had  assigned  to  the  Arabian 
races,  as  civilized  nations,  equal  rank  with  the  An- 
glo-Saxon and  the  Greek  races,  and  had  adduced 
the  advantage  enjoyed  by  the  Hebrews  among  the 
Arab  tribes  as  the  oldest  race  of  unmixed  blood  to 
be  found  amongst  nations  dwelling  in  towns.  He 
had  said  :  "  An  unmixed  race,  with  an  organization 
of  the  first  class,  is  the  true  aristocracy  of  nature." 
And  even  in  "  Sybil,"  the  main  idea  which  was  al- 
ways occupying  Disraeli's  mind  had  asserted  itself. 
The  following  peculiar  explanation  of  the  author's 
early  sympathies  with  Catholicism  is  put  into  the 
mouth  of  a  Catholic  priest : — "  The  Church  of  Rome 
is  to  be  respected  as  the  only  Hebraeo-Christian 
Church  extant ;  all  other  Churches  established  by 
the  Hebrew  Apostles  have  disappeared,  but  Rome 
remains  ;  and  we  must  never  permit  the  exaggerated 
position  which  it  assumed  in  the  middle  centuries 
to  make  us  forget  its  early  and  apostolical  character, 
when  it  was  fresh  from  Palestine,  and,  as  it  were, 
fragrant  from  paradise."  * 

It  is  not,  then,  for  the  sake  of  Rome,  but  of 
Palestine,  that  Disraeli  has  glorified  the  Romish 
Church.  And  this  explains  how  at  last,  in  "  Lo- 
thair,"  he  almost  made  a  parody  on  his  own  works, 
for  in  that  work  the  Catholic  clergy,  and  the  relig- 

*  "  Sybil,"  p.  129. 


"Tancred."  269 

ious  sentiment  which  leads  people  into  their  arms, 
are  portrayed  with  penetrating  knowledge  of  men 
and  cutting  satire.  It  was  solely  the  fragrance  from 
Palestine  which  lingered  about  the  mantles  of  the 
first  bishops  of  Rome  which  made  Rome  so  attrac- 
tive to  him,  until  this  fragrance  was  overpowered 
by  the  odour  of  incense. 

Now,  as  before,  Disraeli  hankered  for  Palestine. 
It  was  long  since  he  had  beheld  the  country  with 
his  bodily  eyes,  but  in  imagination  he  was  ever 
making  pilgrimages  to  the  East.  Since  he  had 
visited  those  regions  as  a  young  man,  the  great  war 
between  Mehemet  Ali  and  the  Porte,  in  1840,  had 
caused  the  Great  Powers  to  interfere  in  Eastern  af- 
fairs, and  attracted  the  attention  of  Europe  to  them, 
and  about  the  same  time  a  number  of  occurrences 
had  taken  place  which  could  not  fail  to  affect  every 
one  who,  like  Disraeli,  had  Jewish  blood  in  his 
veins,  namely,  the  fearful  persecutions  of  the  Jews 
in  Damascus  and  Rhodes,  worse,  even,  than  those  of 
medieval  times.  At  Damascus,  the  sudden  disap- 
pearance of  an  Italian  priest  had  caused  the  report 
that  he  had  been  murdered  by  the  Jews,  and  a 
Jewish  barber  confessed,  under  the  torture  of  five 
hundred  blows  on  the  soles  of  his  feet,  that  the 
Jews  used  Christian  blood  in  making  their  Easter 
cakes,  and  had  employed  him  to  murder  the  priest 
for  this  purpose.  Six  respectable  Jews  were  there- 


270  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

fore  imprisoned  on  suspicion ;  they  were  whipped, 
and  compelled  to  stand  erect  for  three  days  follow- 
ing, and  when  they  fell  down  from  exhaustion,  were 
made  to  get  up  by  thrusts  with  a  bayonet,  their 
beards  were  set  fire  to,  and  lights  held  under  their 
noses  till  their  faces  were  singed  ;  even  their  chil- 
dren were  shut  up  and  kept  on  bread  and  water.  In 
vain  they  appealed  to  their  Scriptures,  in  which  the 
shedding  of  blood  was  forbidden,  and  when  one  of 
them  was  daring  enough  to  say  that  the  Christians 
had  probably  murdered  the  priest  themselves,  he 
was  bastinadoed  till  he  died.  Similar  horrors  were 
perpetrated  about  the  same  time  in  Rhodes,  where 
a  Greek  boy  disappeared  in  the  same  mysterious 
manner,  and  the  Jews  were  accused  of  putting  him 
out  of  the  way ;  the  only  difference  was,  that  in 
this  case  not  the  native  Christians  alone,  but  the 
European  consuls,  including  the  British  consul,  gave 
the  reins  to  their  fanaticism  against  the  Jews,  who 
turned  out  to  be  entirely  innocent.* 

As  is  well  known,  the  reports  of  these  horrors 
gave  rise  to  Sir  Moses  Montefiore's  first  journey  to 
the  East,  where,  with  indefatigable  persistence,  he 
effected  the  release  of  the  imprisoned  Jews,  and  ob- 
tained from  the  sultan  the  remarkable  firman  in 
which  he  stated  his  full  conviction  of  the  innocence 

*  Picciotto,  "Sketches  of  Anglo-Jewish  History,"  p.  347. 


"Tancred"  271 

of  the  Jews  of  the  misdeeds  they  had  been  accused 
of,  and  for  which  they  had  suffered.  The  sultan 
was  more  humane  than  the  English  consul,  who  de- 
nounced the  Jews  in  Rhodes,  or  the  French  consul, 
who  persecuted  them  at  Damascus. 

The  author  of  "  Alroy "  could  not  hear  of  these 
events  without  being  strongly  affected  by  them,  and 
in  reading  the  romance  which  he  now  wrote  about 
the  East  and  the  Jewish  race,  the  maddening  effect 
of  these  horrors  must  be  borne  in  mind.  "  Conings- 
"by "  treated  of  the  political,  and  "  Sybil "  of  the 
social,  problem,  and  "  Tancred,"  the  last  portion  of 
the  trilogy,  was  to  treat  of  the  religious  question. 

"Tancred"  is  unquestionably  one  of  the  most  in- 
teresting and  original  of  Lord  Beaconsfield's  works. 
It  is  a  serio-comic,  ironically  mystic  book ;  on  the 
first  reading,  it  seems  too  absurd  to  be  subjected 
to  serious  criticism,  but  one  takes  it  up  again,  and, 
although  it  falls  asunder  into  two  large  fragments, 
its  wit  and  brilliant  Oriental  scenes  and  conversa- 
tions dwell  in  the  memory.  It  comprises,  moreover, 
Disraeli's  whole  field  of  vision,  and  ranges  between 
the  veriest  frivolities  of  high  life,  an  amusing  gastro- 
nomic disquisition,  and  the  highest  religious  pathos 
of  which  the  author  is  capable,  as  well  as  the  most 
far-reaching  of  his  political  schemes.  To  these,  how- 
ever, at  this  period,  1847,  ne  gave  something  of  a 
burlesque  form,  after  the  manner  in  which  a  Hamlet 


272  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

or  a  Brutus  betrays  or  conceals  his  plans;  but  he 
has  unveiled  them  since  1874,  and  striven  more  and 
more  to  realize  them.  It  is  a  book  having,  Janus- 
like,  two  faces — the  one  expressive  of  impenetrable 
irony,  the  other  of  almost  pure  mysticism ;  and  the 
contrast  is  not  done  away  with  by  diversus  respectus, 
for  the  irony  hovers  over  the  mysticism,  which  is 
the  pivot  of  the  book,  is  to  be  found  in  reality  in 
the  mysticism  itself,  and  thereby  hits  the  Christian- 
religious  enthusiasm  for  crusades,  the  cause  of  which 
he  apparently  advocates.  It  is  usual  to  speak  of 
Lord  Beaconsfield's  sphinx-like  character,  and  "  Tan- 
cred  "  affords  more  justification  than  usual  for  the 
term  ;  still,  even  in  this  case,  it  is  only  mental  indo- 
lence to  take  refuge  in  the  assertion  that  the  book 
is  enigmatical,  for,  if  you  pay  close  attention  to  the 
meaning,  the  author  says  plainly  enough  to  the 
orthodox  : — If  you  were  consistent,  and  seriously 
believed  what  you  are  always  saying  that  you  be- 
lieve, you  would  all  act  as  enthusiastically,  as  sim- 
ply, as  devoutly,  as  madly  as  my  hero.  And  if  you 
were  sincere,  you  would  acknowledge  that  it  is  to 
the  Jews  and  to  Judaism  that  you  are  indebted  for 
all  your  most  precious  treasures,  and  instead  of 
contemning  and  persecuting  them,  you  would  hold 
them  in  high  esteem.  But  you  are  neither  consist- 
ent nor  sincere,  neither  devout  nor  enthusiastic ; 
you  are  each  and  all  of  you  Philistine  Rationalists, 


"Tancred"  273 

and  as  you  do  not  dare  to  confess  it,  try  your  teeth 
on  my  book. 

Lord  Tancred  Montacute  is  brought  up  at  the 
seat  of  a  ducal  family,  sole  heir  of  its  wealth  and 
honours,  and  tenderly  cherished  by  affectionate  and 
unworldly  parents.  He  is  a  young  man  of  the 
Young  England  type,  earnest,  conscientious,  and 
romantically  religious.  The  scene  begins  with  his 
coming  of  age.  His  father  wishes  him  to  enter  Par- 
liament, and  enters  into  conversation  with  him  on 
the  subject,  when  he  learns  with  amazement  that 
his  son  is  firmly  resolved  not  to  enter  Parliament 
until  it  has  become  clear  to  him  on  what  principles 
England  is  or  ought  to  be  governed,  for  he  cannot 
discover  that  there  is  any  principle  in  the  organiza- 
tion of  the  State,  either  monarchical,  aristocratic,  or 
popular;  everything  ancient  is  destroyed,  and  with 
the  consent  of  those  who  ought  to  have  been  the 
guardians  of  it ;  and  he  could  not  see  whither  the 
new  order  of  things  was  tending,  nor  on  what  prin- 
ciple it  was  based.  He,  therefore,  did  not  mean  to 
devote  himself  to  politics ;  he  meant  to  travel.  To 
Paris?  No,  not  Paris.  To  Rome?  No,  nor  yet 
Rome.  Where  then?  He  wished,  after  the  ex- 
ample of  his  great  forefathers,  to  make  a  pilgrimage 
to  Jerusalem.  The  duke,  who  cannot  bear  the  idea 
of  sparing  his  son,  even  for  a  short  time,  and  knows 
what  grief  this  journey  will  cause  his  wife,  is  equally 
12* 


274  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

alarmed  and  surprised.  He  cannot  imagine  what 
Tancred  wants  to  go  to  Jerusalem  for.  But  Lord 
Montacute  coolly  tells  him  that  he  is  convinced 
that  the  only  land  in  which  the  Creator  has  deigned 
to  reveal  Himself  to  man — the  land  in  which  He  as- 
sumed a  manly  form,  and  met  a  human  death,  must 
be  a  country  endowed  with  marvellous  and  peculiar 
qualities.  It  was  these  qualities  that  drew  Europe 
to  Asia  many  times  during  the  Middle  Ages.  Their 
castle  had  before  this  sent  a  De  Montacute  to  Pal- 
estine. He,  too,  would  kneel  at  the  Holy  Sepul- 
chre, would  lift  up  his  voice  to  heaven,  and  ask, 
What  is  duty,  and  what  is  faith  ?  What  ought  I  to 
do,  and  what  ought  I  to  believe  ? 

The  parents,  in  their  alarm,  persuade  their  friend 
the  bishop  to  try  to  bring  the  young  lord  to  reason ; 
but  he  is  an  insignificant,  ambitious  man,  whose  sole 
desire  is  to  make  a  career  for  himself,  and  he  cannot 
find  any  answers  to  Tancred's  doubts  and  argu- 
ments. Tancred  says  that  society  was  once  regu- 
lated by  God,  and  is  now  regulated  by  man.  He 
prefers  divine  to  self  government,  and  wishes  to 
know  how  it  is  to  be  attained.  The  bishop  replies 
that  the  Church  now  represents  God  upon  earth  ; 
but  the  young  man  objects  that  the  Church  no 
longer  governs  man.  The  bishop  speaks  of  the 
progress  of  the  Church  in  our  days:  "We  shall  soon 
see  a  bishop  at  Manchester."  "  But  I  want  to  see 


"  Tancred"  275 

an  angel  at  Manchester/'  answers  Tancred.  "  An 
angel?"  "Why  not?  Why  should  there  not  be 
heavenly  messengers,  when  heavenly  messages  are 
most  wanted  ? "  "  We  have  received  a  heavenly 
message  by  one  greater  than  the  angels,"  answers 
the  bishop.  "  Their  visits  to  man  ceased  with  the 
mightier  advent."  "  Then  why  did  angels  appear  to 
Mary  and  her  companions  at  the  holy  tomb?"  in- 
quired Tancred.*  The  bishop  leaves  him  without 
having  effected  his  object,  and  with  a  diminished 
opinion  of  the  young  lord's  intelligence. 

They  succeeded  in  delaying  Tancred's  departure 
for  a  time.  A  thousand  preparations  have  to  be 
made ;  a  yacht  must  be  bought,  choice  is  difficult, 
and  the  vendors  are  not  to  be  trusted.  Various  cir- 
cumstances intervene  :  the  introduction  of  the  young 
lord  to  London  society,  and  an  innocent  love  affair 
with  a  woman  of  the  world,  who  affects  the  great- 
est interest  in  the  Jerusalem  scheme,  but  is  in  reality 
chiefly  engrossed  in  speculations  in  shares,  and  she 
startles  Tancred  with  the  exclamation  :  "  If  we  only 
had  a  railway  to  Jerusalem !  "  A  railway  to  Jeru- 
salem !  The  very  idea  incensed  Tancred.  He  would 
have  been  still  more  incensed  had  he  known  that  the 
realization  of  the  project  would  be  advocated  in  the 
future  by  no  less  a  person  than  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

*  "Tancred,"  p.  74. 


276  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

In  spite  of  every  obstacle,  Tancred  adheres  firmly 
to  his  plan,  and  at  length  gets  off,  provided  with 
letters  of  introduction  and  letters  of  credit  from  Si- 
donia,  the  only  person  who  understands  why  he 
wants  to  go  to  the  Holy  Land,  and  sympathizes  in 
his  desire  to  penetrate  the  "  Asian  mystery."  Ac- 
companied by  a  Jewish  servant,  procured  for  him 
by  Sidonia,  who  had  accompanied  him  in  his  trav- 
els in  the  East,  and  provided  with  a  regular  suite 
from  the  parental  castle,  Tancred  arrives  at  Jeru- 
salem. 

The  first  adventure  he  meets  with  is  a  rencontre 
with  a  young  lady  in  a  garden  near  Jerusalem,  whose 
perfect  Oriental  beauty  dazzles  and  captivates  him, 
and  her  conversation  appears  to  him  so  wise  and 
true  that  she  all  at  once  convinces  him  that  his 
youth  had  been  passed  in  a  series  of  delusions  about 
the  highest  things.  It  comes  out  that  the  young 
beauty,  dressed  in  the  Turkish  style,  and  glittering 
with  jewels,  is  a  Jewess,  called  the  Rose  of  Sharon  ; 
her  name  is  Eva,  the  daughter  of  the  Croesus  of 
Syria,  the  noble  and  wealthy  Besso,  and  grand- 
daughter of  a  powerful  Bedoueen  chief,  the  sheikh 
of  sheikhs,  Amalek. 

" '  You  Franks  love  Bethany  ?  ' 

" '  Naturally ;  a  place  to  us  most  dear  and  inter- 
esting.' 

" '  Pray,  are  you  of  those  Franks  who  worship  a 


"Tancred."  277 

Jewess ;  or  of  those  others  who  revile  her,  break  her 
images,  and  blaspheme  her  pictures?' 

"  '  I  venerate,  though  I  do  not  adore,  the  mother 
of  God,'  said  Tancred,  with  emotion. 

"'Ah!  the  mother  of  Jesus!'  said  his  com- 
panion. '  He  is  your  God.  He  lived  much  in  this 
village.  He  was  a  great  man,  but  He  was  a  Jew  ; 
and  you  worship  Him.' 

"  '  And  you  do  not  worship  Him  ?  '  said  Tancred, 
looking  up  to  her  with  an  inquiring  glance,  and  with 
a  reddening  cheek. 

" '  It  sometimes  seems  to  me  that  I  ought/  said 
the  lady,  'for  I  am  of  His  race,  and  you  should 
sympathize  with  your  race.' 

" '  You  are,  then,  a  Hebrew  ? ' 

"  '  I  am  of  the  same  blood  as  Mary,  whom  you 
venerate,  but  do  not  adore.' ' 

Eva  has  obtained  a  New  Testament  to  read  from 
the  English  bishop  ;  she  does  not  find,  however, 
that  the  Christianity  in  that  agrees  with  what  passes 
for  it  in  actual  life.  Tancred  suggests  that  she 
should  seek  the  guidance  of  the  Christian  Church. 

"  '  Which  ? '  inquired  the  lady ;  '  there  are  so  many 
in  Jerusalem ; '  "  and  she  names  the  English,  the 
Latin,  the  Armenian,  the  Abyssinian,  the  Greek,  the 
Maronite,  and  Coptic  Churches. 

"  '  In  this  perplexity,  it  may  be  wise  to  remain 
within  the  pale  of  a  Church  older  than  all  of  them, 


278  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

the  Church  in  which  Jesus  was  born,  and  which  He 
never  quitted,  for  He  was  born  a  Jew,  lived  a  Jew, 
and  died  a  Jew;  as  became  a  prince  of  the  house  of 
David,  which  you  do  and  must  acknowledge  Him  to 
have  been.' ' 

Eva  suspects  that  Tancred  thinks  the  present 
state  of  her  race  penal  and  miraculous? 

"  Tancred  bowed  assent.  '  It  is  the  punishment 
ordained  for  their  rejection  and  crucifixion  of  the 
Messiah/ 

"  '  Where  is  it  ordained  ? ' 

"  '  Upon  our  heads  and  upon  our  children  be  His 
blood.' 

"  '  The  criminals  said  that,  not  the  Judge.  Is  it  a 
principle  of  your  jurisprudence  to  permit  the  guilty 
to  assign  their  own  punishment  ?  They  might  de- 
serve a  severer  one.  Why  should  they  transfer  any 
of  the  infliction  to  their  posterity?  What  evidence 
have  you  that  Omnipotence  accepted  the  offer?  It 
is  not  so  announced  in  your  histories.  Your  evidence 
is  the  reverse.  He  whom  you  acknowledge  as  om- 
nipotent, prayed  to  Jehovah  to  forgive  them  on  ac- 
count of  their  ignorance.  But,  admit  that  the  offer 
was  accepted,  which  in  my  opinion  is  blasphemy,  is 
the  cry  of  a  rabble  at  a  public  execution  to  bind  a 
nation?'"* 

*  "  Tancred,"  pp.  188-190. 


"Tancred"  279 

The  theological,  historical  vindication  of  the  Jew- 
ish nation,  which  the  author  puts  into  the  heroine's 
mouth,  is  precisely  the  same  which,  a  few  years 
afterwards,  he  tried  to  impress  upon  his  readers  in 
the  "  Life  of  Lord  George  Bentinck,"  and  almost  in 
the  same  words,  only  it  is  more  circumstantial  and 
expressed  with  more  care.  As  Lord  Beaconsfield's 
own  face  appears  so  plainly  behind  Eva's  beautiful 
mask,  it  will  be  worth  while  to  linger  a  little  on  the 
point.  He  says  that  the  traditional  doctrine,  that 
the  dispersion  of  the  Jews  was  a  punishment  for  the 
crucifixion  of  Christ,  was  neither  historically  true 
nor  dogmatically  sound  —  an  assertion  altogether 
superfluous  for  his  and  Eva's  enlightened  readers, 
but  not  needless  in  his  own  country,  especially  thirty 
years  ago. 

Not  historically  true.  For  the  Jews  were  at  that 
time  as  much  scattered  in  proportion  over  the  then 
known  world,  as  now  over  the  whole  civilized  parts 
of  the  earth.  Many  Jews  were  living  at  that  time, 
highly  respected  and  well  off,  in  Alexandria,  as  well 
as  in  Jerusalem.  Less  than  two  months  after  the 
Crucifixion,  there  came  to  Jerusalem,  as  we  are  ex- 
pressly told,  "  devout  men,  from  every  nation  under 
heaven,  Parthians,  and  Medes,  and  Elamites,  and 
the  dwellers  in  Mesopotamia,"  from  Asia  and  Asia 
Minor,  and  even  from  Rome.  What  had  all  these 
to  do  with  the  Crucifixion  ?  Besides,  as  we  know, 


280  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

"  the  Jews  were  originally  a  nation  of  twelve  tribes ; 
ten,  long  before  the  advent  of  Jesus,  had  been  car- 
ried into  captivity,  and  scattered  over  the  East  and 
the  Mediterranean  world ;  they  are  probably  the 
source  of  the  greater  portion  of  the  existing  He- 
brews." What  had  they  to  do  with  the  death  of 
Jesus  ?  Jerusalem  has  not  been  conquered  oftener 
than  Athens,  or  treated  worse ;  but  its  people,  un- 
happily, fought  too  bravely  and  rebelled  too  often, 
so  that  at  last  they  were  expatriated.  Expatriation 
is  a  purely  Oriental  custom.  "We  will  suppose," 
says  Eva,  "  all  the  Jews  in  all  the  cities  of  the 
world  to  be  the  lineal  descendants  of  the  mob  who 
shouted  at  the  Crucifixion.  Yet  another  question  ! 
My  grandfather  is  a  Bedoueen  sheikh,  chief  of  one 
of  the  most  powerful  tribes  of  the  desert.  My 
mother  was  his  daughter.  He  is  a  Jew  ;  his  whole 
tribe  are  Jews ;  they  read  and  obey  the  Five  Books, 
live  in  tents,  have  thousands  of  camels,  ride  horses 
of  the  Nedjed  breed,  and  care  for  nothing  except 
Jehovah,  Moses,  and  their  mares.  Were  they  at 
Jerusalem  at  the  Crucifixion,  and  does  the  shout  of 
the  rabble  touch  them  ?  Yet  my  mother  marries  a 
Hebrew  of  the  cities,  and  a  man,  too,  fit  to  sit  on 
the  throne  of  King  Solomon  ;  and  a  little  Christian 
yahoo,  with  a  round  hat,  who  sells  figs  at  Smyrna, 
will  cross  the  street  if  he  see  her,  lest  he  should  be 
contaminated  by  the  blood  of  one  who  crucified  his 


"Tattered"  281 

Saviour ;  his  Saviour  being,  by  his  own  statement, 
one  of  the  princes  of  our  royal  house.  No ;  I  will 
never  become  a  Christian  if  I  am  to  eat  such 
sand  ! "  * 

The  discourse  is  carried  on  with  short  questions 
and  answers,  from  which  it  appears  that  the  Ar- 
menians, who  have  not  crucified  a  Redeemer,  are 
still  more  completely  expatriated  than  the  Jews,  and 
that  the  assumed  curse  cannot  have  been  so  very 
effective,  since  in  Europe,  where  nothing  is  so  much 
honoured  and  sought  after  as  money,  the  wealthiest 
men  in  all  countries  are  found  among  the  Jews. 

The  conversation  has  now  reached  the  point 
where  Disraeli  brings  forward,  through  Eva,  his  sec- 
ond objection  to  the  retributive  theory,  that  it  is 
dogmatically  unsound.  For  the  sake  of  brevity,  I 
give  the  statement  as  he  is  accustomed  to  formulate 
it  himself : — It  can  by  no  means  be  said  with  truth 
that  even  the  small  section  of  the  Jewish  race  living 
in  those  remote  times  in  Palestine  rejected  Jesus. 
Were  it  not  for  the  Jews  of  Palestine,  the  Northern 
and  Western  races  would  know  nothing  of  the  gos- 
pel now.  The  first  Apostles  were  Jews,  exclusively 
Jews ;  the  first  evangelists  were  Jews,  and  Jews 
only.  For  more  than  a  century  none  but  Jews  be- 
lieved in  the  teaching  of  Jesus.  It  was  not  a  Ro- 

*  "  Tancrcd,"  p.  191. 


282  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

man  senator,  nor  an  Athenian  philosopher,  but  a 
Jew  of  Tarsus,  who  founded  the  Seven  Churches  of 
Asia;  and  that  more  famous  Church,  which  avenged 
the  conquest  of  Jerusalem  by  conquering  Rome, 
and  turning  all  the  Grecian  and  Roman  temples 
into  altars  to  the  God  of  Sinai  and  Calvary,  was 
founded  by  a  Galilean  Jew.  There  was  no  differ- 
ence between  the  morality  of  the  new  doctrine  and 
that  of  the  old. 

"  They,  who,  in  those  somewhat  lax  effusions, 
which  in  these  days  are  honoured  with  the  holy 
name  of  theology,  speak  of  the  morality  of  the  gos- 
pel as  a  thing  apart  and  of  novel  revelation,  would 
do  well  to  remember  that  in  promulgating  such  doc- 
trines they  are  treading  on  very  perilous  ground. 
There  cannot  be  two  moralities ;  and  to  hold  that 
the  Second  Person  of  the  Holy  Trinity  could  teach  a 
different  morality  from  that  which  had  been  already 
revealed  by  the  First  Person  of  the  Holy  Trinity, 
is  a  dogma  so  full  of  terror  that  it  may  perhaps 
be  looked  upon  as  the  ineffable  sin  against  the  Holy 
Spirit.  When  the  lawyer  tempted  our  Lord,  and 
inquired  how  he  was  to  inherit  eternal  life,  the  great 
Master  of  Galilee  referred  him  to  the  writings  of 
Moses.  There  he  would  find  recorded  the  whole 
duty  of  man."  * 

*  "  Life  of  Lord  George  Bentinck,"  p.  48. 


"Tancredr  283 

If,  then,  the  essence  of  Christianity  does  not  con- 
sist in  a  new  system  of  morals,  it  can  only  consist 
in  the  fore-ordained  sacrificial  and  atoning  death  of 
Christ.  Eva  attacks  Tancred  on  this  point : — "  Sup- 
pose the  Jews  had  not  prevailed  upon  the  Romans 
to  crucify  Jesus,  what  would  have  become  of  the 
atonement  ?  Where  was  the  inexpiable  crime  of 
those  who  fulfilled  the  beneficent  intention  ?  The 
holy  race  supplied  the  victim  and  the  immolators. 
.  .  .  And  with  such  a  doctrine,  .  .  .  with  divine 
persons  for  the  agents,  and  the  redemption  of  the 
whole  family  of  man  for  the  subject ;  you  can  mix 
up  the  miserable  persecution  of  a  single  race  !  .  .  . 
Persecute  us  !  Why,  if  you  believed  what  you  pro- 
fess, you  should  kneel  to  us  !  You  raise  statues  to 
the  hero  who  saves  a  country.  We  have  saved  the 
human  race,  and  you  persecute  us  for  doing  it."  * 

In  thus  presenting  the  substance  of  these  ideas 
to  the  reader,  the  artistic  form  is  marred,  and  this 
important  dialogue  may  appear  hyper-theological, 
but  in  connection  with  the  context  it  is  not  at  all 
inartistic ;  it  is  in  harmony  with  the  surroundings 
of  the  speakers,  and  is  well  adapted  to  produce  an 
impression  on  the  young  man,  who  is  interested  in 
theology.  As  far  as  the  relation  of  the  author  to 
its  contents  is  concerned,  it  seems  to  me  that  Dis- 

*  "  Tancred,"  p.  195. 


284  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

raeli  has  remained  true  to  his  watchword  in  "Vivian 
Grey."  In  order  to  oppose  some  of  the  orthodox 
formulas  which  stand  in  his  way,  he  admits  the  rest 
without  hesitation  ;  and  when  he  makes  Eva  speak 
of  these  things,  the  discussion  of  them  is  fresh, 
sincere,  and  without  false  pathos  or  unction,  while, 
when  he  is  speaking  in  his  own  name  (as  in  the 
"  Life  of  Bentinck "),  he  feels  compelled  to  have 
regard  to  his  position  as  Tory  leader,  and  he  speaks 
with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  in  a  sanctimonious  tone. 
Those  who  have  a  lively  recollection  of  the  en- 
lightened views  of  the  leading  statesmen  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  and  of  their  liberal  way  of 
treating  of  the  scholastic  problems  here  treated  of 
in  so  narrow  a  spirit,  cannot  fail  to  regret  the 
retrograde  step  ;  but,  when  it  is  considered  that 
Disraeli  was  speaking  to  England  before  the  year 
1848,  and  that  his  Liberal  opponent,  Gladstone, 
still  in  his  most  liberal  phase  ("  Juventus  Mundi," 
1869)  showed  an  entirely  different  bias  on  theologi- 
cal topics,  and  seriously  thought  he  had  found  the 
Christian  Trinity  among  the  Homeric  gods,  even 
in  Poseidon's  trident,  we  see  Disraeli's  doctrines  of 
atonement  and  predestination  in  another  light,  and 
perceive  that,  within  the  prescribed  limits,  for  aTory, 
he  is  almost  an  advocate  of  religious  Radicalism. 

Poor  Tancred  is  pursued  by  a  certain  irony.     His 
theological  discussion  with  Eva  leads  to  his  being 


"  Tancred."  285 

at  least  as  much  in  love  as  he  is  convinced.  His 
journey  from  Jerusalem  to  Sinai  results  in  his  being 
attacked  by  the  Bedoueen  horde  of  her  grandfather, 
who  takes  him  for  the  brother  of  the  Queen  of 
England,  and  demands  an  enormous  ransom.  After 
a  brave  resistance,  he  is  overpowered  and  taken 
prisoner.  In  the  camp  he  makes  acquaintance  with 
Arab  life  and  ways  of  thinking,  sheikhs  and  emirs, 
wins  the  heart  of  the  young  emir  Fakredeen,  and 
soon  obtains  his  liberty.  He  has  now  imbibed  the 
impression  of  the  superiority  of  the  Arab  race  ;  he 
has  repeatedly  heard  the  Bedoueen  chief  say: 
"  Men  may  doubt  the  existence  of  unicorns  ;  of  one 
thing  there  can  be  no  doubt — that  God  never  spoke 
to  a  man  who  was  not  an  Arab."  He  is  already  ac- 
customed pathetically  to  call  himself  of  the  religion, 
though  not  of  the  race,  of  the  Arabs ;  he  recalls  with 
shame  and  regret  that  he  has  been  brought  up  from 
childhood  to  consider  it  the  noblest  pedigree  to  be 
descended  from  a  band  of  Baltic  pirates,  who  never 
received  a  revelation  ;  now  he  is  ripe  for  the  pil- 
grimage to  Sinai.  At  the  cypress,  half-way  up  the 
mount,  which,  tradition  says,  is  the  scene  of  the 
revelation  ;  the  solitary  Tancred  falls  on  his  knees, 
and  prays  at  midnight  to  Jehovah.  He  seems  to 
see  a  mighty  luminous  form  ;  he  calls  himself  the 
Angel  of  Arabia,  and  speaks  consoling  and  stirring 
words  to  him. 


286  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

This  angelic  revelation  reminds  the  reader  of  a 
similar  one  in  the  fantastic  "  Alroy,"  and,  though 
treated  as  purely  subjective,  it  is  quite  a  failure.  The 
angel's  long  palaver  is  nothing  but  a  concise  rtsumt 
of  all  that  the  chief  personages  in  "  Tancred  "  are  in 
the  habit  of  saying,  and  all  pretence  to  style  is  at  an 
end  when  such  phrases  as  "  the  social  problem  "  pass 
his  lips.  The  Angel  of  Arabia  belongs  to  that  class 
of  sovereigns  who  have  learnt  nothing  and  forgot- 
ten nothing,  for  he  proclaims  a  pure  theocracy,  the 
equality  of  men  under  the  government  of  God.  But 
this  geographical  angel  is  at  the  same  time  a  very 
Disraeli-ish  potentate,  for  he  concludes  by  exhorting 
Tancred  to  adopt  the  watchword  of  his  originator: 
"  Fear  not,  faint  not,  falter  not.  Obey  the  impulse 
of  thine  own  spirit,  and  find  a  ready  instrument  in 
every  human  being." 

Unfortunately,  the  reader  is  not  told  to  what  ex- 
tent the  angel's  promises  are  fulfilled,  for  the  novel 
ends  when  the  lovely  Eva  gives  her  hand  to  Tan- 
cred, and  England  and  the  East  enter  into  a  sym- 
bolic union  in  their  persons,  like  that  between  aris- 
tocracy and  trade  by  the  marriage  of  Coningsby  and 
Edith  Millbank,  or  the  Tories  and  the  people  by 
the  marriage  of  Charles  Egremont  and  Sybil  Gerard, 
in  the  author's  earlier  works. 

The  strong  point  of  the  book  is  the  masterly  way 
in  which  Eastern  life  in  the  present  day  is  sketched, 


"  Tancred."  287 

especially  where  the  introduction  of  European  ideas 
and  usages  is  illustrated.  The  dialogues  of  the 
natives  are  in  harmony  with  the  scenery  of  the 
desert,  and  the  solitary  castles  beneath  the  Syrian 
hills.  With  the  intuition  of  mental  affinity,  Disraeli 
has  divined  the  Oriental  way  of  looking  at  things, 
and  imitates  the  mode  of  expression  to  a  nicety. 
Two  of  Tancred's  English  servants  play  the  part  of 
fool,  in  English  and  Spanish  plays,  amidst  these 
curious  surroundings,  and  relieve  the  pathos  of  the 
book  by  introducing  a  comic  element.  Technically 
speaking,  Disraeli  has  scarcely  written  anything 
better  than  the  contrasts  produced  by  the  na'ive 
English  arrogance  and  homely  wants  of  these  ser- 
vants. We  hear  them  complaining,  when  in  impris- 
onment in  the  Bedoueen  camp,  that  the  "savages" 
have  drunk  up  all  the  blacking  for  cleaning  my 
lord's  boots,  and  find  that  their  wants,  during  the 
painful  absence  from  their  own  country,  culminate 
in  a  sigh  for  a  little  sugar  for  their  coffee. 

Among  the  Orientals,  the  emir  Fakredeen  is  dis- 
tinguished for  his  brilliant  and  paradoxical  qualities. 
This  character  is  the  most  original  Lord  Beacons- 
field  has  ever  drawn.  Fakredeen  is  a  political 
genius,  wanting  in  knowledge  and  firmness  of  pur- 
pose, but  he  has  picked  up  a  few  crumbs  of  Euro- 
pean culture ;  he  served  the  author's  purpose  in 
1847,  in  enabling  him  to  sketch,  in  caricature,  some 


288  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

of  the  schemes  which  were  running  in  his  head. 
Fakredeen,  who  in  his  earlier  years  only  aimed  at  a 
sort  of  Syrian  sovereignty,  now  longs  for  a  larger 
sphere  of  political  action.  He  wants  to  astonish 
Europe  instead  of  the  Lebanon,  and  to  checkmate 
the  thrones  and  powers  of  the  great  world  instead 
of  the  sheikhs  and  emirs  of  his  own  mountains.  He 
sits  through  the  long  Eastern  days,  with  his  Turkish 
pipe  in  his  mouth,  on  Tancred's  divan,  and  pours 
the  wildest  political  fantasies  into  his  friend's  ear. 

Among  his  fugitive  projects,  there  is  one  as  fol- 
lows : — "  You  (Englishmen)  must  perform  the  Por- 
tuguese scheme  on  a  great  scale ;  quit  a  petty  and 
exhausted  position  for  a  vast  and  prolific  empire. 
Let  the  Queen  of  England  collect  a  great  fleet,  let 
her  stow  away  all  her  treasure,  bullion,  gold  plate, 
and  precious  arms  ;  be  accompanied  by  all  her  court 
and  chief  people,  and  transfer  the  seat  of  her  empire 
from  London  to  Delhi.  There  she  will  find  an 
immense  empire  ready  made,  a  first-rate  army,  and 
a  large  revenue.  ...  I  will  take  care  of  Syria  and 
Asia  Minor.  The  only  way  to  manage  the  Afghans 
is  by  Persia  and  by  the  Arabs.  We  will  acknow- 
ledge the  Empress  of  India  as  our  suzerain,  and 
secure  for  her  the  Levantine  coast.  If  she  like,  she 
shall  have  Alexandria,  as  she  now  has  Malta;  it 
could  be  arranged.  Your  Queen  is  young  ;  she  has 
an  avenir.  Aberdeen  and  Sir  Peel  will  never  give 


"  Tancred"  289 

her  this  advice ;  their  habits  are  formed.  They  are 
too  old,  too  rusSs.  But,  you  see !  the  greatest  em- 
pire that  ever  existed ;  besides  which,  she  gets  rid 
of  the  embarrassment  of  her  Chambers  !  And  quite 
practicable  ;  for  the  only  difficult  part,  the  conquest 
of  India,  which  baffled  Alexander,  is  all  done !  "  * 

It  is  impossible  to  read  this  passage  without  per- 
ceiving that  every  sentiment  in  it  agrees  with  some 
utterance  or  action  of  Lord  Beaconsfield's.  He  has 
since  defined  England  as  an  Asiatic  power.  He 
has  not,  it  is  true,  removed  the  seat  of  government 
to  India,  but  he  has  emphatically  said  that  the 
centre  of  gravity  of  British  power  lies  in  this  col- 
ony. He  has  not  asked  the  Queen  to  go  there,  but 
he  has  made  her  Empress  of  India,  and  sent  the 
Prince  of  Wales  there,  well  furnished  with  "  trea- 
sure, bullion,  and  precious  arms,"  and  "accom- 
panied by  his  chief  people."  He  has  summoned 
Indian  troops  to  Europe  to  support  England.  He 
has,  in  literal  accordance  with  Fakredeen's  plans, 
made  Asia  Minor  acknowledge  the  sway  of  the 
Empress  of  India.  His  object  in  buying  the  Suez 
Canal  shares  was  to  secure  the  way  to  India,  and 
if  he  has  not  acquired  possession  of  Alexandria, 
which  was,  however,  once  projected,  and  only  given 
up  in  order  not  to  offend  France,  he  has  taken  Cy- 

*"  Tancred,"  p.  263. 
13 


290  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

prus  instead.  While  these  lines  are  being  written, 
he  is  engaged  in  subjugating  the  Afghans,  and — 
to  include  the  last  clause  in  this  long  passage — he 
has  shown  a  strong  inclination  to  make  short  work 
with  both  Chambers  when  he  wanted,  by  decisive 
action,  to  steal  a  march  on  a  powerful  adversary, 
who  was  under  no  obligation  to  announce  his 
schemes  to  any  popular  assembly. 

"  Tancred,"  in  its  relation  to  the  Eastern  politics 
of  Lord  Beaconsfield,  is  a  veritable  palimpsest ; 
beneath  a  layer  of  poetical  and  grotesque  fantasies, 
the  book  concealed  for  thirty  years  the  serious  pro- 
gramme of  this  policy,  and  not  until  Time,  the 
greatest  of  critics,  has  by  degrees,  during  the  last 
four  years,  corroded  the  surface,  were  other  critics 
enabled  to  decipher  the  concealed  and  instructive 
original  writing. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

DISRAELI  AS  TORY  LEADER. 

WITH  "Tancred,"  Disraeli's  work  as  a  novelist 
ceased  for  full  twenty-three  years.  The  only  book 
which  he  published  during  this  long  period,  the 
"Life  of  Lord  George  Bentinck"  (1851),  is  of  a 
political  character,  an  account  of  the  early  Parlia- 
mentary contests  in  which  the  author  was  engaged  ; 
and  the  rest  of  the  contents,  the  exhaustive  memo- 
rial relating  to  the  emancipation  of  the  Jews,  is  but 
a  variation  of  the  ideas  in  "Tancred."  But,  al- 
though Lord  Beaconsfield's  literary  activity  ceased 
in  1847  it  certainly  did  not  arise  from  any  feeling 
of  exhaustion  on  his  part.  He  is  not  one  of  those 
men  whose  energies  flag  early.  It  was  only  be- 
cause, from  the  period  when  he  became  Tory 
leader,  he  no  longer  had  time  for  literary  produc- 
tion. From  his  earliest  years  he  had,  like  Contarini 
Fleming's  father,  placed  action  above  authorship. 
He  had  long  been  firmly  resolved,  as  he  wrote  of 
his  ideal,  Lord  Bolingbroke,  "  to  sacrifice  himself 
absolutely  to  his  party,  and  to  spend  in  its  service 
all  the  energy  of  his  Proteus-like  mind."  He,  there- 

291 


292  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

fore,  made  no  attempt  to  serve  two  masters.  He 
allowed  his  literary  abilities  to  enter  exclusively 
into  the  service  of  politics. 

The  sudden  death  of  Bentinck,  in  1848,  left  Dis- 
raeli the  sole  leader  of  the  Protectionists;  the 
equally  sudden  death  of  Sir  Robert  Peel,  by  a  fall 
from  his  horse,  left  him  the  most  distinguished  man 
of  the  two  sections  of  Conservatives.  The  leader 
of  the  Tories  in  the  Lords,  Lord  Stanley,  after- 
wards Earl  of  Derby,  recognized  him  as  a  political 
ally  of  equal  rank.  It  was  not  long  before  the 
noble  lord,  like  Lord  George  Bentinck  previously, 
even  drew  his  political  inspiration  from  Disraeli, 
and  while  he  contented  himself  with  being  nominal 
head  of  the  party,  he  smoothed  the  last  bit  of  the 
parvenu  s  stony  path  to  power. 

Still,  there  was  a  long  way  yet  to  actual  power ; 
the  party  which  followed  the  Tory  leader  was  in 
a  decided  minority.  The  banner  which  he  had 
inherited,  the  white  banner  of  the  duty  on  corn, 
was  so  unpopular  that  it  seemed  most  prudent  to 
furl  it  up  and  put  it  in  his  pocket ;  the  future  of- 
fered him  no  other  part  to  play  than  that  of  watch- 
ful, but  for  the  present  powerless,  critic  of  Lord 
John  Russell's  Whig  administration,  and  that  of 
encouraging  leader  of  a  totally  routed  and  embit- 
tered party,  whose  impatience  he  had  to  control, 
but  whose  illusions  as  to  the  possibility  of  a  finan- 


Disraeli  as  Tory  Leader.  293 

cial   political   change,   having    the   keen    eye   of   a 
statesman,  he  did  not  for  a  moment  share. 

Almost  from  the  day  on  which  the  Corn  Laws 
were  abolished,  Disraeli  openly  gave  out  that  it  was 
useless  to  think  of  reopening  the  question,  or  of 
reintroducing  the  abolished  laws ;  the  voice  of  the 
country  had  decidedly  declared  against  protection, 
and  no  statesman  could  disregard  so  powerful  an 
opinion,  however  strongly  he  might  be  convinced 
that  it  had  been  produced  by  artificial,  or  even 
unjustifiable,  means.  All  the  speeches,  therefore, 
which  he  made  in  favour  of  the  landed  interest,  from 
1848  to  1852,  drop  the  old  watchword,  "Protection 
against  Free  Trade,"  entirely,  and  turn  exclusively 
to  other  means  of  healing  the  wounds  which,  by  the 
Whigs'  confession,  the  sudden. abolition  of  the  corn 
duties  had  inflicted  on  the  landowners  and  farmers. 
As  a  great  actor  can  shine  in  a  small  and  thankless 
part,  and  cause  its  insignificance  to  be  forgotten 
by  the  masterly  way  in  which  he  plays  it,  Lord 
Beaconsfield  shines  at  this  period  by  the  care  and 
sagacity  with  which  he  brings  forward  every  ac- 
knowledgment that  a  wrong  has  been  done  to  the 
agriculturists^  which  ought  to  be  made  good ;  and 
no  less  so  by  the  clearness  and  force  with  which  he 
suggests  how  the  difficult  position  of  the  British 
farmer  may  be  mitigated  without  recurring  to  the 
settled  question  of  duties.  He  showed  that  the 


294  Lord  Bcaconsficld. 

sum  of  ten  millions  annually  demanded  for  "  local 

purposes,"    fell   almost  exclusively   on   the   landed 

i 

property,  although  these  purposes  concerned  the 
whole  country,  and  not  the  land  only.  It  was  un- 
reasonable to  consider  such  burdens  as  the  care  of 
the  poor,  the  maintenance  of  roads  and  bridges,  and 
police  expenses,  as  local,  instead  of  national,  and  to 
throw  them  on  the  land.  The  unreasonableness  of 
the  present  system  was  so  great,  that  lately,  a  Lon- 
don Quaker,  who  had  committed  a  murder  in  Buck- 
inghamshire, was  prosecuted  at  the  expense  of  the 
county;  they  might  just  as  well  demand  —  indeed, 
better,  that  the  Liverpool  merchants  should  bear 
the  expense  of  England's  interference  in  La  Plata, 
for  it  was  solely  for  their  benefit.  He  adroitly 
quoted  Cobden's  remark,  that  no  tax  on  raw  mate- 
rial should  be  tolerated,  and  defined  the  soil  as  the 
raw  material  of  the  necessaries  of  life ;  and  Cobden 
sanctioned  the  definition. 

"  Do  not,"  cried  he,  one  day  in  Parliament, 
"  under  this  system,  oppress  the  land  of  England 
with  the  pharisaical  pretence  that  you  are  the  advo- 
cates of  a  great  politico-economical  scheme  that  will 
not  tolerate  the  taxation  of  a  raw  material,  and  sup- 
pose at  the  same  time  that  we  will  endure  that  the 
whole  social  existence  of  England  shall  be  founded 
on  a  system  which,  morning,  noon,  and  night,  in 
every  duty  of  the  life  of  an  Englishman,  taxes  the 


Disraeli  as  Tory  Leader.  295 

most  important  raw  material  of   a  nation's  indus- 
try." * 

His  efforts  were  of  no  avail ;  his  motion  was  re- 
jected. He  then  proposed  to  abolish  the  duty  on 
malt,  as  oppressive  to  the  farmers.  He  appealed  to 
the  fact  that,  two  years  before,  no  less  a  man  than 
Richard  Cobden  had  promised  the  abolition  of  this 
tax,  with  the  acknowledgment :  "  We  owe  some- 
thing to  the  farmers,  and  will  try  to  pay  our  debts." 
But  in  vain ;  the  Commons  decided,  by  an  over- 
whelming majority,  to  retain  the  Malt  Tax.  He 
showed  that  the  celebrated  Free  Trader,  McCul- 
loch,  in  his  treatise  on  taxation,  had  stated  that  the 
English  farmers,  in  order  to  be  placed  on  an  equal 
footing  with  foreign  producers,  were  entitled  to  a 
protective  duty  of  six  to  seven  shillings  per  quarter, 
and  said  that  the  abolition  of  the  Corn  Laws  had 
been  carried  by  false  statements  and  misrepresenta- 
tions of  every  kind.f  But  it  was  all  in  vain ;  the 
victorious  Free  Traders  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  him ; 
the  old  statements  and  promises  had  long  been  for- 
gotten, and  nobody  quite  believed  in  the  grievances 
of  the  landowners  and  farmers;  they  had  foretold 


*  Hitchman's  "  Public  Life  of  the  Earl  of  Beaconsfield,"  vol.  i.  p. 
304. 

f  McCulloch.  "A  Treatise  on  the  Principles  and  Practical  Influ- 
ence of  Taxation  and  the  Funding  System."  Second  Edition,  pp. 
195-202. 


296  Lord  Bcaconsficld. 

that  all  sorts  of  disasters  would  follow  the  abolition 
of  the  Corn  Laws ;  they  had  not  followed,  and  the 
exchequer  revealed  that  the  country  was  in  an  un- 
usually flourishing  state.  The  landed  interest  was 
like  the  shepherd  boy  in  the  fable :  it  had  so  often 
cried  for  help  against  the  free  trade  wolf,  that  it  was 
not  believed  when  danger  really  threatened.  There 
was,  therefore,  nothing  left  for  Disraeli  but  to  warn 
the  Free  Traders  in  general  against  arrogance  and 
exaggeration,  and  to  threaten  them  with  the  Neme- 
sis. They  had  said  that  it  did  not  signify  whether 
there  was  an  acre  of  cultivated  land ;  England 
should  monopolize  the  trade  of  the  world,  and  be 
the  workshop  of  the  world.  He  pointed  to  the  fate 
of  Venice  and  Tyre,  which  abundantly  showed  what 
became  of  great  mercantile  powers,  if  they  were 
destitute  of  the  stability  and  firmness  of  the  terri- 
torial principle.  Perhaps  the  parallel  seemed  a 
little  far-fetched  to  the  cool-headed  Free  Traders. 

With  more  skill,  if  not  with  greater  success,  Dis- 
raeli was,  during  this  period,  the  inexorable  critic 
of  the  foreign  policy  of  the  Liberal  administration. 
It  was  that  policy  which  has  become  notorious  un- 
der the  name  of  the  "  meddle  and  muddle  policy." 
After  the  disastrous  commotions  of  1848,  England 
interfered  in  all  countries,  under  the  auspices  of 
Lord  John  Russell,  as  the  friend  of  the  oppressed, 
as  the  ally  of  the  Liberals,  as  adviser  and  monitor 


Disraeli  as  Tory  Leader.  297 

of  reactionary  Governments,  and  when  her  incon- 
venient counsels  were  rejected,  she  left  .her  prote'ge's 
in  the  lurch.  The  English  Ministers  appeared  to 
act  on  the  assumption,  without  any  special  study  of 
local  circumstances,  that  it  must  be  the  salvation  of 
every  country  to  have  an  Upper  House,  a  Lower 
House,  and  a  commercial  treaty  after  the  English 
model.  They  gave  their  advice  accordingly,  and  if 
it  was  not 'followed,  the  cause  of  the  malcontents 
in  the  various  countries  was  dropped.  There  was 
something  appropriate,  when  viewed  in  a  purely 
aesthetic  light,  in  the  unqualified  expression  by  the 
Whig  Ministers  of  their  sympathy  with  European 
Liberalism.  Nothing  could  exceed  English  pride 
and  the  jaunty  complaisance  of  Lord  Palmerston, 
when,  as  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  after  Kos- 
suth's  flattering  reception  in  England,  he  graciously 
received  addresses,  thanking  him  for  what  he  had 
done  for  the  famous  exile,  in  which  the  Emperors 
of  Russia  and  Austria  were  called  "  detestable  and 
odious  assassins,  relentless  tyrants  and  despots." 
He  declared  himself  highly  flattered  and  exceed- 
ingly pleased  with  the  addresses,  only  taking  care 
to  guard  his  position  with  respect  to  the  friendly 
powers,  Russia  and  Austria,  by  the  not  very  large 
reservation  that  he  must  not  be  supposed  to  agree 
with  every  expression  made  use  of. 

This  sort  of  thing  certainly  looks  bolder,  more 
13* 


298  Lord  Bcaconsfield. 

amiable,  as  well  as  more  liberal,  than  Disraeli's  de- 
nunciations, almost  at  the  same  time,  of  the  league 
between  the  British  Ministry,  and  the  un-English 
Continental  Jacobinism,  which  was  even  intending 
to  supersede  the  legitimate  sovereigns  of  Italy  ;  but 
when  we  look  at  the  results  of  this  noisy  but  fee- 
ble Ministerial  policy,  we  can  but  justify  Disraeli's 
polemics  against  their  perpetual  interference.  In 
1848  the  Spanish  Government  had  replied  to  an  in- 
judicious admonitory  letter  of  Lord  Palmerston's 
by  dismissing  the  English  Ambassador  from  Ma- 
drid, and  breaking  off  diplomatic  relations.  In  the 
following  year,  the  English  Minister  sent  six  confi- 
dential agents  to  no  purpose,  one  after  the  other,  to 
La  Plata,  a  second-rate  rebellious  Spanish  colony, 
and  it  followed  the  example  of  the  mother  country, 
and  gave  the  British  Minister  his  passport.  Inter- 
ference in  the  affairs  of  the  King  of  the  two  Sicilies 
had  no  better  result.  The  first  evidences  of  the 
disesteem  into  which  England,  as  a  Great  Power, 
was  to  fall  through  her  feeble  foreign  policy  in  the 
course  of  the  next  thirty  years  of  an  almost  unbro- 
ken Whig  Ministry  were  beginning  to  show  them- 
selves. Ministers  were  even  then  obliged  to  tell  the 
Opposition  that  England  must  not  overrate  her  in- 
fluence. Disraeli  did  not  leave  this  unanswered. 
The  conclusion  of  a  speech  in  Parliament  about  this 
time  sounds  like  a  prophecy  of  the  totally  different 


Disraeli  as  Tory  Leader.  299 

spirit  in  which  he  would  conduct  the  foreign  policy 
of  the  country. 

"At  all  events,"  he  said,  "he  would  rather  that 
his  tongue  were  paralyzed  than  advise  the  English 
people  to  lower  its  tone.  Yes,  he  would  rather  leave 
that  House  for  ever  than  tell  the  English  people 
that  it  overrated  its  position.  He  left  these  delicate 
intimations  to  the  glowing  patriotism  of  the  gentle- 
men of  the  new  school.  For  his  part,  he  deplored 
their  policy,  and  defied  their  prophecies,  but  he  did 
this  because  he  had  faith  in  the  people  of  England, 
in  their  genius,  and  in  their  destiny." 

The  measure  of  the  Russell  administration  was 
filled  up ;  it  had  long  been  weakened  by  the  in- 
trigues of  the  Prime  Minister  against  Lord  Palmer- 
ston,  which  drove  him  from  the  Foreign  OrHce  ;  an 
abortive  Reform  Bill,  and  a  no  less  abortive  Militia 
Bill,  gave  the  final  blow.  The  discontented  Whigs, 
the  Peelites  under  the  leadership  of  Palmerston, 
and  the  Tories  under  that  of  Disraeli,  brought 
about  the  fall  of  the  Ministry  in  1852.  The  Queen 
charged  Lord  Derby  with  the  formation  of  a  new 
administration,  and  after  the  office  of  Chancellor  of 
the  Exchequer  had  been  declined  by  Lord  Palmer- 
ston, it  was  accepted  by  Benjamin  Disraeli,  and  in 
his  suite,  so  to  speak,  and  as  representative  of  the 
almost  forgotten  "Young  England,"  his  pupil,  Lord 
John  Manners,  took  office  as  "  First  Commissioner 


300  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

of  Works  and  Public  Buildings,"  and  he  has  held 
office  in  all  Disraeli's  subsequent  Ministries.  Thus 
Disraeli  became  for  the  first  time  a  member  of  the 
Government ;  the  once  isolated  Parliamentary  gladi- 
ator had  become  an  English  Minister. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

FIRST  MINISTERIAL  OFFICE. 

DISRAELI  did  not  find  himself,  however,  on  a  bed 
of  roses.  The  Tory  party  was  in  the  minority  in 
the  Lower  House,  and  was  not  strong  in  the  Upper. 
In  the  Commons,  the  numbers  of  the  Tories  and  the 
Whigs  and  Radicals  allied  were  about  equal,  so  that 
it  was  the  party  of  Peel's  old  adherents  that  turned 
the  scale,  and  it  will  be  readily  believed  that  Dis- 
raeli had  no  fiercer  opponents.  The  administra- 
tion was  no  sooner  formed  than  the  revival  of  the 
Anti-Corn  Law  League  throughout  the  country 
was  planned,  and  there  was  a  vehement  agitation 
against  the  dreaded  protective  reaction.  I  have 
already  mentioned  that  the  new  Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer  was  far  from  having  any  design  of  con- 
ducting such  a  reaction ;  but  his  followers  undoubt- 
edly hoped  for  it,  and,  unfortunately,  there  was  so 
much  disagreement  on  the  point  in  the  Cabinet, 
that  while  Disraeli,  in  a  programme  addressed  to 
his  constituents,  prudently  avoided  the  word  "  Pro- 
tection," and  only  spoke  in  general  terms  of  "  cura- 
tive measures,"  to  which  the  producers  were  enti- 

3°  i 


302  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

tied,  Lord  Derby,  in  his  first  speech  in  the  House 
of  Lords,  imprudently  adopted  so  challenging  an 
attitude,  that  in  consequence  of  it,  ,£27,000  were 
subscribed  for  the  league  at  a  meeting  at  Manches- 
ter in  the  course  of  ten  minutes.  Seldom  has  a 
witty  remark  been  so  completely  confirmed  as  was, 
on  this  occasion,  Disraeli's  designation  of  Lord 
Derby  two  years  before,  as  the  Prince  Rupert  of 
Parliamentary  debate ;  his  attack  was  always  irre- 
sistible, but  on  his  return  from  pursuit  he  constantly 
found  his  camp  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  The 
new  Chancellor  needed  much  dexterity  not  to  make 
a  false  step  on  the  very  threshold. 

The  office  of  Finance  Minister,  which  had  been 
allotted  to  Disraeli,  could  scarcely  have  been  his 
own  choice ;  it  has  been  said  that  it  was  given  him 
because,  at  that  time,  probably  through  the  influ- 
ence of  Prince  Albert,  the  Queen  was  very  unfa- 
vourable to  him,  and  in  this  office  he  would  not 
come  into  personal  contact  with  her.  However  that 
may  be,  he  has  since  discovered,  better  than  any 
one  else,  how  to  gain  the  Queen's  favour,  and  in 
1852  he  performed  the  task  confided  to  him  with 
such  remarkable  ability,  that  even  his  opponents 
could  not  refuse  recognition  of  it.  His  first  budget, 
which  necessarily  did  not  differ  essentially  from  that 
of  his  predecessors,  was  received  with  applause.  In 
a  letter  from  Lord  Palmerston  to  his  brother,  of 


First  Ministerial  Office.  303 

3Oth  of  April,  1852,  he  says:  "Disraeli  has  this 
evening  made  a  very  good  financial  estimate.  His 
speech  of  two  hours  was  excellent,  well  arranged, 
clear,  and  well  sustained.  .  .  .  He  has  entirely 
thrown  overboard  the  idea  of  an  import  duty  on 
corn,  in  other  words,  the  principle  of  protection." 
In  fact,  Disraeli  had  said,  on  the  very  first  day  of 
his  taking  office,  in  answer  to  a  query  on  the  burn- 
ing question  of  the  corn  duties,  that  as  the  Free 
Traders  had  succeeded  in  exciting  so  much  preju- 
dice and  hatred,  even  against  the  purely  fiscal  meas- 
ure of  a  low-fixed  duty,  he  should  consider  it  to  be 
the  most  senseless  and  useless  undertaking  for  a 
Government  to  bid  defiance  to  this  popular  opinion, 
and  in  his  speech  on  the  budget,  he  expressed  him- 
self to  the  same  effect.  This  attitude  seems  to  have 
irritated  his  chief,  Lord  Derby,  more  than  any  one. 
Only  a  week  later,  in  order  to  do  away  with  the 
impression  of  what  the  Chancellor  had  said,  Lord 
Derby,  with  his  accustomed  impetuosity,  dropped 
hints  in  an  after-dinner  speech  about  the  necessity 
of  compromises  between  the  corn-producing  and 
the  corn-consuming  class.  The  consequence  was 
that  in  the  next  sitting  of  the  Commons  after  this 
speech,  the  Government  found  itself  in  a  minority 
of  no  less  than  eighty-six.  The  unfortunate  Tory 
Ministry,  then,  only  lived  by  favour  of  its  opponents, 
and  prudence  on  the  Free  Trade  question  was  more 


304  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

necessary  than  ever.  Disraeli  again  rose,  with  the 
assurance  that  he  considered  the  Corn  Laws  dead 
and  buried.  He  even  spoke  with  a  certain  disdain 
of  protection  as  "  an  exploded  system."  "  The 
spirit  of  the  age,"  he  said,  "  tends  to  free  inter- 
course, and  no  statesman  can  disregard  with  impu- 
nity the  genius  of  the  epoch  in  which  he  lives."  He 
had  never  so  decidedly  cast  off  the  Protectionists. 
He  proposed,  in  order  to  relieve  the  landed  interest, 
a  revision  of  the  system  of  taxation,  as  he  had  sug- 
gested when  leader  of  the  Opposition.  But  the  dif- 
ficulties which  a  Tory  administration  had  to  sur- 
mount under  these  circumstances  were  too  great. 
The  dissolution  of  Parliament  did  not  give  the  Cab- 
inet a  majority,  scarcely  a  more  favourable  position. 
In  a  brilliant  speech  of  over  five  hours,  the  Chancel- 
lor of  the  Exchequer  brought  forward  his  second 
budget — a  well-devised,  bold  budget,  reforming  on 
a  large  scale ;  the  principle  of  it  was  to  relieve,  by 
reorganization  of  taxation,  the  classes  which  had 
suffered  from  the  legislative  changes  of  the  last  few 
years ;  but  the  most  interesting  feature  in  it  to  my 
mind  is,  that  Disraeli  proposed  a  large  diminution 
of  the  tax  on  tea,  by  carrying  out  which  Gladstone 
gained  so  much  credit  several  years  later.  But  the 
budget  was  assailed  with  vehement  criticism  from 
all  sides.  The  Protectionists  gave  vent  to  their  dis- 
appointment at  Disraeli's  adoption  of  the  principle 


First  Ministerial  Office.  305 

of  Free  Trade,  the  Peelites  gave  abundant  expres- 
sion to  their  personal  dislike  to  the  foe  and  succes- 
sor of  Peel,  Whigs  and  Tories  demonstrated  that  all 
the  proposed  changes  in  taxation  were  bad,  and 
when  the  division  took  place,  a  majority  of  nineteen 
against  the  budget  put  an  end  both  to  it  and  the 
Derby  Ministry.  The  Tory  Government  had  only 
lasted  ten  months,  from  February  to  December, 
1852. 

Among  the  Peelite  opponents  of  the  budget,  one 
personage  played  a  foremost  part,  whose  shadow 
was  thenceforth  to  be  cast  on  Disraeli's  life,  and 
whose  name,  as  his  successful  rival  for  twenty  years, 
has  always  been  coupled  with  his — William  Ewart 
Gladstone.  He  was  the  foe  marked  out  for  him  by 
fate  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  If  it  really  was  the  case, 
as  the  keys  to  "  Coningsby  "  assert,  that  the  author 
had  Gladstone  in  his  mind  when  portraying  the 
manufacturer's  son,  Oswald  Millbank,  who  was  so 
enchanted  with  the  young  Tory  aristocrats,  Glad- 
stone, whom  Macaulay  called,  not  many  years  later, 
"  the  rising  hope  of  the  rigid  and  inflexible  Tories," 
has  confounded  both  his  and  Disraeli's  prognosti- 
cations. He  has  ended  with  being  the  hope  of  the 
directly  opposite  party.  While  Disraeli's  career  has 
brought  him  from  an  almost  Radical  starting-point 
to  the  leadership  of  the  Tories,  Gladstone,  on  the 
other  hand,  has  gradually  passed  from  extreme 


306  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

Toryism  to  an  almost  Radical  policy.  And  while 
the  careers  of  the  two  opponents  form  a  sym- 
metrical contrast,  their  talents  and  characters  are 
so  decidedly  opposed,  that  this  seems  the  place, 
where  they  are  first  confronted  with  each  other, 
to  allow  the  character  and  talents  of  Gladstone  to 
throw  light  on  the  peculiarities  of  Lord  Beacons- 
field. 

There  is  that  abstract  likeness  between  the  rivals 
which  serves  to  make  the  contrast  the  more  marked. 
Both  are  practical  politicians  and  distinguished  Par- 
liamentary speakers ;  both  have  made  a  name  as  au- 
thors outside  the  sphere  of  politics.  They  belong 
to  the  same  generation  (Gladstone  was  born  in 
1809),  and  were,  in  their  youth,  not  only  contempo- 
rary with  the  period  of  the  great  political  and  re- 
ligious reaction,  but  experienced  it  themselves,  and, 
as  the  result,  both  statesmen  have  a  bit  of  the  theo- 
logian in  them.  Gladstone  became  a  Puseyite  when 
Disraeli  was  a  ritualistic  enthusiast ;  and,  as  specu- 
lative theologians,  they  are  equally  unscientific : 
Gladstone  has  his  peculiar  theory  about  the  Trinity 
and  Homer,  and  Disraeli  has  his  own  private  doc- 
trine of  preordination  about  the  Crucifixion  and 
the  Jewish  race.  But  even  within  these  narrow 
limits,  the  likeness  does  not  extend  further;  for 
Disraeli's  theological  narrowness  always  seems  more 
than  half-intentional,  while  Gladstone's  is  naive. 


First  Ministerial  Office.  307 

Gladstone  is,  above  all  things,  a  man  of  conviction, 
but  this  does  not  preclude  changes  in  his  convic- 
tions;'bit  by  bit  he  has  entirely  changed  his  politi- 
cal creed,  but  he  has  had  at  each  moment  a  firm 
belief  in  the  truth  of  the  creed  that  he  professed. 
Lord  Beaconsfield,  on  the  other  hand,  has  plumed 
himself  on  his  political  unchangeableness,  and  has, 
on  all  essential  points,  been  consistent  with  himself ; 
if,  in  spite  of  this,  he  has  taken  very  various  stand- 
points, the  modifications  which  may  be  pointed  out 
in  his  political  attitude  do  not  seem  to  have  been 
determined  by  altered  convictions,  but  by  an  intel- 
ligible regard  for  circumstances.  Gladstone  is  a 
character,  a  man  capable  of  development  and  al- 
ways developing,  and  of  extraordinary  gifts,  espe- 
cially of  great  practical  understanding ;  he  has  the 
head  of  a  financial  minister,  and  the  heart  of  a  phi- 
lanthropist ;  he  is  a  man  of  figures,  with  sympathy 
for  the  sufferings  of  humanity  ;  but  he  is  uninterest- 
ing and  wanting  in  originality.  The  character  of 
Lord  Beaconsfield,  on  the  contrary,  is  absolutely 
original ;  there  is  something  daemonic  in  him.  His 
mind  is  of  the  metallic  order,  while  Gladstone's  is 
of  the  fluid  sort.  Disraeli  became  what  he  is  all  at 
once,  and  could  scarcely  change ;  he  broke  himself 
in,  learnt  self-control,  acquired  great  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  and  a  flexibility  and  dexterity  which 
sometimes  remind  you  of  a  lawyer,  but  in  any 


308  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

deeper  and  more  special  sense  he  has  not  developed 
at  all;  he  has  only  rubbed  off  his  angles  on  the 
world  around  him.  While  it  does  not  cost  Glad- 
stone much  to  confess  that  he  has  been  mistaken, 
Disraeli  never  allows  himself  to  have  been  in  the 
wrong,  and  with  a  certain  justification,  for  his  char- 
acter appears  to  him  as  a  whole,  over  which  time 
has  no  power ;  he  is  the  man  who  cannot  err,  as  he 
is  the  man  who  does  not  change.  This  is  the  point 
where  the  real  and  the  theatrical  in  his  character 
meet ;  he ,  does  not  confess  any  political  error,  any 
more  than  he  confesses  to  a  single  grey  hair.  But  if 
you  take  the  word  development  in  the  less  precise 
sense  of  self-culture  and  self-control,  Disraeli  is  far 
more  capable  of  development  than  Gladstone. 
While  Gladstone,  up  to  old  age,  indeed  in  an  in- 
creasing degree  as  he  has  advanced  in  years,  has 
given  way  to  vehemence  and  temper,  has  been  sen- 
sitive and  impatient,  his  rival  has  been  constantly 
growing  quieter  and  cooler.  In  his  youthful  works 
the  superlative  reigned  supreme,  and  in  "  Contarini 
Fleming,"  for  example,  the  hot  stage  of  fev'er  only 
gave  way  to  the  cold  ;  but  he  has  grown  into  the 
party  leader  who  never  loses  his  composure,  who 
knows  better  than  any  one  how  to  keep  silence — 
prefers,  indeed,  to  keep  silence  ;  he  is  imperturbable, 
impenetrable ;  he  is  the  Parliamentary  sphinx,  the 
personification  of  patient  waiting.  Gladstone  flung 


First  Ministerial  Office.  309 

away  the  leadership  of  his  party  in  a  moment 
of  irritation,  and,  after  the  fall  of  his  Ministry, 
withdrew  angrily  into  his  tent.  Lord  Beacons- 
field,  after  every  defeat,  has  only  been  cooler  than 
ever. 

The  two  rivals  betray  the  profound  difference  in 
their  natures  as  speakers.  Gladstone  appeals,  in 
order  to  produce  conviction,  to  the  eternal  ideas  of 
truth  and  justice  ;  he  speaks  in  the  name  of  Chris- 
tianity and  humanity  ;  he  recognizes  philosophic, 
philanthropic,  and  cosmopolitan  ideas  as  the  high- 
est, even  in  the  sphere  of  politics.  For  Lord  Bea- 
consfield,  on  the  contrary,  the  great  statesmen  of 
England  are  the  decisive  authorities;  he  does 'not 
appeal  to  ideas,  but  to  precedents,  not  to  principles, 
but  to  Bolingbroke  or  Shelburne ;  he  does  not 
quote  Shakespeare,  but  Hansard ;  he  desires,  above 
all  things,  to  be  national  and  historical.  And  as  the 
contents  of  his  speeches  differ  from  those  of  Glad- 
stone, so  does  the  form.  Gladstone  is  a  clear  and 
energetic,  but  far  too  discursive  speaker;  not  a  single 
word,  not  a  telling  phrase,  stands  out  in  the  torrent 
of  his  eloquence,  so  as  once  heard,  never  to  be 
forgotten.  He  has  himself  defined  the  relations  be- 
tween the  speaker  and  his  hearers  ;  he  says  that  the 
speaker  gives  them  back  in  the  form  of  a  river  what 
he  receives  from  them  as  vapour.  He  himself  is 
the  speaker  thus  defined,  and  it  is  on  the  close  rela- 


3io*  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

tion  to  his  hearers  here  indicated  that  the  great 
effect  of  his  words  depends ;  they  seldom  read  well. 
Lord  Beaconsfield's  speeches,  on  the  contrary,  are 
eminently  monologues,  the  products  of  an  original, 
paradoxical,  and  therefore  isolated  mind,  the  work 
of  a  born  author,  brilliant  and  sparkling,  excellent 
in  parts,  but  long  passages  in  them  are  trivial,  a 
mere  tissue  of  spangles. 

Still,  it  is  not  as  members  of  Parliament,  but 
as  leaders  of  foreign  policy,  that  these  two  great 
statesmen  are  most  strikingly  contrasted.  It  was 
Gladstone's  highest  ambition,  systematically  to  di- 
minish the  National  Debt  by  extraordinary  financial 
measures;  he  succeeded  in  doing  so,  and  in  order 
not  to  disturb  this  result,  when  controller  of  Eng- 
land's destinies,  he  sank  into  an  unexampled  state 
of  blissful  tranquillity  and  indifference  about  foreign 
policy,  and  carried  the  principle  of  non-intervention 
so  far  that  he  lowered  the  dignity  of  England  in 
every  quarter  of  the  world,  nay,  made  her  almost  an 
object  of  ridicule.  The  chief  strength  of  his  oppo- 
nent, who  is  by  no  means  his  equal  as  a  financier, 
consists  in  his  advocating  precisely  opposite  ten- 
dencies in  foreign  policy,  and  in  his  having  made 
amends  for  Gladstone's  failures  in  this  respect. 
The  man  whom  Gladstone  not  long  ago  called  "  a 
foreigner,  with  not  a  drop  of  English  blood  in  his 
veins,"  has  kept  the  colonies,  whose  continued  con- 


First  Ministerial  Office.  311 

nection  with  the  mother  country  Gladstone  treated 
as  a  matter  of  indifference,  as  closely  as  possible 
under  English  rule,  and,  by  an  energetic  policy  in 
face  of  England's  foes,  he  has  restored  the  lost  pres- 
tige to  his  country's  name. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

DISRAELI  AS  LEADER  OF  THE   OPPOSITION,   AND 
HIS   SECOND   MINISTERIAL   OFFICE. 

THE  fall  of  the  Derby  Administration  in  Decem- 
ber, 1852,  again  placed  Disraeli  in  the  Opposition 
camp.  For  the  sake  of  convenience,  I  give  the  par- 
ticulars of  his  political  position  from  that  time  to 
the  present.  Out  of  the  twenty-one  following 
years,  he  was  scarcely  four  at  the  helm.  He  was 
only  twice  in  the  Ministry  during  this  time ;  he  was 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  under  Lord  Derby 
from  March,  1858,  to  June,  1859,  an<^  ^e  entered 
the  Derby  Ministry  in  the  same  capacity  in  July, 
1866,  and  became  Prime  Minister  when  Derby  re- 
tired on  account  of  ill  health  in  February,  1868,  but 
he  with  difficulty  retained  his  position  up  to  De- 
cember of  the  same  year.  It  is  only  since  Feb- 
ruary, 1874,  that  is,  after  his  seventieth  year,  that 
Lord  Beaconsfield  has  attained  decisive  influence 
as  an  English  statesman ;  and  in  order  to  judge 
him  justly  in  the  intervening  years,  it  must  not  be 
forgotten  that  he  was  not  in  a  position,  with  the 
short  and  sporadic  possession  of  power  that  fell  to 

312 


Disraeli  as  Leader  of  the  Opposition.        313 

his  lot,  to  carry  out  large  or  matured  projects. 
During  these  years,  the  part  he  played  was  chiefly 
that  of  critic. 

Lord  Aberdeen's  Coalition  Ministry  united  in  it- 
self, according  to  Lord  Palmerston's  definition,  "  all 
the  men  of  talent  and  experience  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  with  the  exception  of  Disraeli."  Dis- 
raeli, therefore,  immediately  christened  it  with  the 

nickname  of  the  "  Ministry  of  all  the  Talents,"  and 

• 

it  began  with  a  series  of  indiscretions  and  mistakes. 
At  a  time  when  the  alliance  with  France  was  a  ne- 
cessity for  England,  members  of  the  Cabinet  were 
guilty  of  using  grossly  insulting  language  towards 
the  emperor  in  public  speeches,  when  almost  imme- 
diately afterwards,  the  Government  had  to  sue  for 
his  confidence  and  friendship.  Sir  Charles  Wood 
told  his  hearers  that  "  a  despotism  like  the  present 
had  not  reigned  in  France,  even  in  the  time  of 
Napoleon  I. ;  "  and  in  another  speech  he  expressed 
his  conviction  that  Napoleon  III.,  without  carrying 
on  a  regular  war  with  England,  "  would  suddenly 
land  various  corps  of  five  thousand  men  on  our 
coasts,"  and  asked  the  meeting  to  consider  "  how 
their  wives  and  daughters  would  be  treated  then." 
Another  member  of  the  Government,  Sir  James 
Graham,  First  Lord  of  the  Admiralty,  openly  called 
Napoleon  "  a  despot,  who  was  treading  the  liberties 
of  forty  millions  of  men  under  foot."  This  was  fine 


3 14  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

sport  for  a  leader  of  the  Opposition,  and  Disraeli 
closed  a  speech,  brimming  over  with  wit  and  satire, 
with  the  query :  Are  these  utterances  indiscretions  ? 
Can  indiscretions  proceed  from  "  all  the  Talents  "  ? 
Impossible ! 

How  the  Aberdeen  Ministry  drifted  into  the  war 
with  Russia,  without  resolve  or  forethought,  is  well 
known ;  the  careless  words  of  the  Prime  Minis- 
ter, "  We  drift  into  a  war,"  have  become  historic. 
Palmerston,  whose  plan  was  to  act  with  energy  and 
promptitude,  was  compelled  to  tender  his  resigna- 
tion ;  and  just  at  the  moment  when  the  Russo- 
Turkish  war  began  with  the  defeat  at  Sinope,  Lord 
John  Russell,  the  most  maladroit  member  of  the 
Government  of  "  all  the  Talents,"  brought  in  a 
Reform  Bill,  taking  advantage,  so  to  speak,  of  the 
interval  during  which  Palmerston,  who  had  a 
marked  aversion  to  all  reform  schemes,  was  out  of 
the  Ministry.  The  decidedly  warlike  feeling  of  the 
country,  however,  induced  Palmerston  to  withdraw 
his  resignation ;  and  Disraeli  had  the  opportunity, 
without  speaking  against  reform  in  the  abstract,  of 
preparing  an  important  defeat  for  the  Ministry,  by 
inveighing  against  Lord  John  Russell's  folly  in 
choosing  a  moment  like  this  for  bringing  forward 
the  difficult  domestic  question  of  Parliamentary 
reform,  when  the  nation  was  rallying  its  forces  for 
the  conflict  at  hand. 


Disraeli  as  Leader  of  the  Opposition.       315 

He  successfully  impugned  both  the  attitude  of 
the  Government  towards  Turkey,  and  the  wretched 
administration  of  the  army.  Disraeli's  special  ten- 
derness for  Turkey  has  often  been  ridiculed  ;  but 
surely  no  impartial  person  can  fail  to  see  that,  from 
the  English  standpoint,  he  was  right  in  upholding 
Turkey  as  long  as  possible.  And  the  members  of 
the  Coalition  Ministry  were  as  imprudent  in  the 
expressions  about  this  ally  of  England  as  they  had 
been  about  the  French.  One  of  them  said  that  the 
sultan  "  had  chiefly  himself  to  blame  for  his  misfor- 
tunes, through  his  senseless  policy  and  reckless  mis- 
government;"  another  Minister,  Gladstone,  made  a 
speech  at  Manchester,  in  which  he  gave  the  country 
to  understand  that  the  situation  of  Turkey  was 
hopeless  ;  and  these  were  the  assurances  with  which 
they  called  upon  the  nation  to  fight  for  the  integ- 
rity of  the  Turkish  empire.  The  beginning  of  the 
Crimean  war  agreed  only  too  well,  as  we  all  know, 
with  the  vacillating  policy  which  had  preceded  it. 
The  leader  of  the  Opposition  in  December,  1854, 
summed  up  the  results  of  the  Ministerial  prepara- 
tions for  the  first  few  months  of  the  campaign  in 
the  following  words: — "You  have  chosen  a  winter 
campaign,  and  what  have  been  your  preparations  for 
it  ?  In  November  you  gave  orders  to  build  huts. 
You  have  not  yet  sent  out  that  winter  clothing 
which  is  adapted  to  the  climate.  .  .  .  You  have 


316  Lord  Beacons  fie  Id. 

commenced  a  winter  campaign  in  a  country  where 
it  most  of  all  should  be  avoided.  You  have  com- 
menced such  a  campaign — a  great  blunder,  without 
providing  for  it — the  next  great  blunder.  The  huts 
will  arrive  in  January,  and  the  furs  probably  will 
meet  the  sun  in  May.  These  are  your  prepara- 
tions ! "  * 

It  was  not  necessary  to  be  an  eminent  politician 
to  lash  with  severity  the  gross  mistakes  of  the 
Government,  and  no  one  will  attribute  any  special 
merit  to  Disraeli  for  doing  it ;  what  is  much  more 
to  his  credit  is  the  way  in  which  he  then,  as  ever 
afterwards,  at  critical  periods,  put  the  interests  of 
the  country  entirely  above  those  of  his  party — the 
genuine  patriotism  with  which,  from  the  moment 
when  the  Government  and  the  country  took  up  the 
war  in  earnest,  he  offered  his  support  to  the  Govern- 
ment. Even  before  the  outbreak  of  the  war,  when 
speaking  in  favour  of  a  peaceful  solution  of  the 
question,  at  the  close  of  his  speech  he  addressed  the 
following  words  to  the  Ministry:  —  "But,  if  war 
should  be  found  inevitable,  the  Opposition  will  cor- 
dially and  sincerely  support  their  sovereign,  and 
maintain  the  honour  and  dignity  of  their  country. 
This  I  can  say — I  can  answer  for  myself  and  my 
friends,  that  no  future  Wellesley  on  the  banks  of  the 

*  Hitchman's  "  Public  Life  of  the  Earl  of  Beaconsfield,"  vol.  i.  p. 
422. 


Disraeli  as  Leader  of  the  Opposition.       317 

Danube  will  have  to  make  a  bitter  record  of  the  ex- 
ertions of  an  English  Opposition  that  depreciated 
his  efforts  and  that  ridiculed  his  talents.  We  shall 
remember  what  we  believe  to  be  our  duty  to  this 
country  ;  and  however  protracted  may  be  the  war, 
however  unfortunate  your  counsels  (to  the  Minis- 
try), at  least  we  shall  never  despair  of  the  re- 
public." * 

This  retrospective  attack  on  the  conduct  of  the 
Whigs  towards  Wellington  cannot  be  considered 
unnatural,  when  we  recall  the  English  demonstra- 
tions against  Turkey  during  the  last  Russo-Turkish 
war.  The  Whigs,  who  were  then  agitating  against 
Lord  Beaconsfield,  had  neither  his  self-control  nor 
the  patriotism  which  determined  his  attitude  before 
the  Crimean  war.  And  when,  after  the  retirement 
of  Aberdeen,  and  the  futile  attempts  of  Lord  Derby 
and  Lord  Russell  to  form  a  new  administration, 
Palmerston  took  the  conduct  of  the  war  in  his 
firmer  hand  as  Prime  Minister,  Disraeli  again  de- 
clared that  her  Majesty  might  firmly  rely  on  her 
Parliament  in  the  renewed  conflict ;  there  was  no 
sum  which  her  Parliament  would  not  joyfully  grant, 
and  her  people  joyfully  raise,  to  protect  the  honour 
and  interests  of  the  empire. 

Only  compare  Gladstone's  noisy  demonstrations 

*  Hitchman's  "  Public  Life  of  the  Earl  of  Beaconsfield,"  vol.  i.  p. 
413- 


318  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

and  fanatical  denunciations  of  Lord  Beaconsfield's 
Oriental  policy  in  the  course  of  1877! 

The  Treaty  of  Peace  with  Russia  resulted  in  dis- 
appointment. A  feeling  prevailed  that  the  results 
gained  were  in  no  kind  of  proportion  to  the  sacri- 
fices made,  and  Palmerston  himself  did  not  expect, 
as  Lord  John  Russell  tells  us,  in  his  "  Recollections 
and  Suggestions,"  that  the  Treaty  of  1856  would 
last  the  fifteen  years  it  did  last.  And  yet  the  war 
with  Russia  was  scarcely  over,  when  Palmerston's 
restless  foreign  policy  involved  England  in  a  series 
of  new  wars.  The  unjust  and  repulsive  war  with 
China,  a  little  war  with  Persia,  and  difficulties  with 
the  kingdom  of  Naples  and  the  United  States,  fol- 
lowed quickly  upon  each  other.  After  a  cutting 
speech  from  Disraeli  on  the  Chinese  war,  Palmer- 
ston found  himself  in  a  minority  in  the  Commons, 
and  a  dissolution  followed.  But  when  the  new 
elections  showed  his  undiminished  popularity  by  a 
large  majority  for  the  Government,  and  when  just 
at  the  same  time  the  Indian  Mutiny  broke  out,  Dis- 
raeli again  gave  up  his  opposition.  He  gave  the 
assurance  in  the  House  of  Commons,  that  "  it  was 
his  intention  to  support  the  Sovereign  and  the 
Government  in  all  the  measures  which  so  grave 
and  critical  an  event  might  demand."  This  loyal 
behaviour  did  not,  of  course,  however,  preclude 
a  very  different  opinion  of  the  Mutiny  from  the 


Disraeli  as  Leader  of  the  Opposition.       319 

Ministerial  one.  He  met  with  no  success  with  a 
motion  for  the  appointment  of  a  Committee  to 
inquire  into  the  causes  which  led  the  natives  to 
rebel,  but  long  before  the  Government  understood 
the  ominous  threats  or,  at  least,  would  acknowledge 
the  danger,  Disraeli  foresaw  the  coming  storm.  To 
his  first  question  on  Indian  matters,  he  received  an 
answer  from  the  Ministerial  benches,  that  it  was 
altogether  an  insignificant  affair ;  the  discontent  was 
almost  entirely  confined  to  the  army  in  Bengal,  and 
any  attempt  at  mutiny  would  be  sure  to  be  nipped 
in  the  bud  by  Lord  Canning.  Disraeli  replied  that 
the  disturbances  in  India  did  not  appear  to  him  at 
all  like  a  mutiny  among  the  soldiers,  but  like  a 
revolt  of  the  people.  He  was  not  to  be  put  off  with 
the  usual  explanation  of  the  origin  of  the  mutiny, 
the  introduction  of  the  Enfield  rifle,  with  cartridges 
greased  with  beef  suet  and  lard ;  he  allowed  that 
this  disregard  of  the  religious  prejudices  of  the 
Hindoos  may  have  been  the  immediate  occasion, 
but  he  ascribed  the  Mutiny  to  much  more  general 
causes.  He  showed  that  all  the  great  Indian 
statesmen  had  been  in  favour  of  the  principle  of 
respecting  the  rights  and  privileges,  the  laws,  cus- 
toms, and  religions  of  the  nations  to  be  governed ; 
and  brought  forward  instances  to  show  that,  in  all 
these  respects,  this  rule  had  been  violated.  There 
was  one  passage  in  the  speech  which  threw  light 


320  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

on  his  subsequent  Indian  policy.  He  told  the 
House  that  it  must,  no  matter  whether  tidings  of 
victory  or  defeat  reached  it,  proclaim  to  the  people 
of  India  that  the  relation  between  them  and  their 
true  sovereign,  Queen  Victoria,  would  be  more 
closely  drawn.  The  House  must,  in  this  affair,  ex- 
ert an  influence  on  public  opinion  in  India,  and  it 
was  only  through  the  imagination  that  the  public 
opinion  of  Eastern  nations  could  be  worked  upon. 

Disraeli  recognized,  better  than  the  statesmen  in 
office,  the  necessity  of  not  wounding  Asiatic  preju- 
dices if  you  wished  to  be  an  Asiatic  sovereign,  and 
he  knew  better  than  any  man  what  vast  power  Ori- 
ental imagination  offered  the  British  Government 
for  confirming  its  supremacy. 

During  the  five  years  which  elapsed  between  the 
first  time  that  Disraeli  held  office,  and  the  second, 
he  trained  himself  to  be  a  trustworthy  and  watchful 
party  leader  of  the  first  class.  He  was  a  master  of 
the  art  of  keeping  his  followers  together,  knew  how 
to  encourage  the  younger  men,  and  to  gain  the 
elder  ones  by  recognition  of  their  services  ;  above 
all  things,  he  possessed  the  gift  of  never  wounding 
anybody's  vanity;  as  leader  of  Opposition,  he  did 
not  thrust  any  aspiring  colleague  into  the  shade; 
and  later  on,  when  Prime  Minister,  he  permitted  his 
colleagues  to  explain  and  defend  their  opinions  and 
actions  themselves.  In  this,  also,  he  was  a  contrast 


Disraeli  as  Leader  of  the  Opposition.        321 

to  Gladstone,  who,  in  the  conviction,  perhaps  not 
incorrect  in  itself,  that  he  could  best  advocate  the 
views  of  the  Ministry  in  person,  has  subjected  his 
colleagues  to  many  an  unwise  humiliation.  And 
while,  by  these  qualities,  Disraeli  was  increasingly 
gaining  the  confidence  and  devotion  of  the  Con- 
servative party,  he  was  one  of  the  two  or  three  Par- 
liamentary orators  on  whose  lips  all  parties  hung. 
There  was  soon  no  one  whose  words  were  looked 
for  with  greater  eagerness,  no  one  who  was  'greeted 
with  more  applause.  Seldom  has  the  art  of  compell- 
ing an  assembly  to  listen  to  every  word  of  the 
speaker  been  carried  to  greater  perfection. 

Towards  Palmerston,  Disraeli  adopted  neither  the 
disdainful  attitude  which  he  had  assumed  towards 
Peel,  nor  the  satirical  style  which  he  usually  assumed 
in  the  Opposition  towards  Aberdeen  and  Russell. 
He  used,  half  ironically,  to  take  Palmerston,  whom 
he  once  jestingly  called  the  "  Tory  chief  of  a  Radi- 
cal Cabinet,"  under  his  protection  as  a  distant  ally. 
But  when,  after  Orsini's  attack  on  Napoleon  III.,  in 
the  beginning  of  1858,  Palmerston  took  in  so  unman- 
ly a  style,  Walewski's  insulting  note,  calling  Eng-  . 
land  the  protector  of  assassins,  and  the  address  of 
the  French  colonels  to  the  emperor,  printed  in  the 
'Moniteur,  asking  permission  to  call  England  to  ac- 
count, "that  land  of  impurity,  that  infamous  nest," 
and  obligingly  laid  before  the  House  the  Bill  against 
14* 


322  Lord  Bcaconsfield. 

conspirators  desired  by  Napoleon,  Disraeli  helped 
to  overturn  his  Ministry,  and  the  administration 
once  more  fell  into  the  hands  of  Lord  Derby. 

It  was  the  misfortune  of  the  new  Cabinet  that,  as 
previously,  it  had  a  majority  only  in  the  Commons. 
It  tried  to  make  up  by  skill  what  it  lacked  in  power. 
At  first  Disraeli's  tact  succeeded  in  pacifying  the 
French  Government,  without  any  humiliating  con- 
cession. He  spoke  of  the  alliance  with  France  with 
a  warmth  that  was  obviously  sincere.  "  The  alli- 
ance between  England  and  France,"  he  said,  "  rests 
upon  a  principle,  which  is  wholly  independent  of 
forms  of  government,  and  even  of  the  personal 
character  of  the  rulers."  Then  passing  over  to  his 
youthful  acquaintance  of  Lady  Blessington's  salon, 
he  lauded  the  French  emperor  as  an  eminently 
gifted  man :  "  The  Emperor  Napoleon  is  not  only  a 
ruler,  but  a  statesman.  He  possesses  not  only  great 
knowledge  of  human  nature  in  general,  but  of  the 
human  nature  of  the  Englishman  in  particular,"  etc. 

With  similar  firmness  he  arranged  another  pain- 
ful affair  which  the  previous  Government  had  vainly 
attempted,  the  release  of  two  Englishmen  taken 
prisoners  by  the  Neapolitan  Government,  on  board 
the  steamer  Cagliari,  and  who,  though  quite  inno- 
cent, had  been  languishing  for  months  in  horrible 
prisons,  and  could  not  be  released  because  Palmer- 
ston,  in  order  to  punish  the  King  of  the  Two  Sicilies, 


^econd  Ministerial  Office.  323 

had  taken  the  futile  step  of  withdrawing  the  Eng- 
lish Ambassador  from  Naples. 

Two  important  matters  were  then  decided  by 
legislation.  By  a  compromise  between  Lord  John 
Russell  and  Disraeli,  India  was  placed  directly  un- 
der the  dominion  of  the  British  Crown,  a  centraliz- 
ing measure  demanded  by  circumstances,  and  which 
is  in  full  accord  with  the  subsequent  Imperial  policy 
so  called.  Further,  Lord  John  Russell  brought  in 
a  Bill  under  the  Derby-Disraeli  administration,  by 
which  the  House  of  Commons  was  opened  to  the 
Jews;  and  the  first  Jew  admitted  to  Parliament, 
Baron  Lionel  de  Rothschild,  was  introduced  by 
Disraeli. 

In  1831  Macaulay  wrote  his  famous  essay  on  the 
Emancipation  of  the  Jews,  in  1833  the  law  for  their 
emancipation  was  passed,  and  in  1847  two  Jews 
were  elected  members  of  Parliament.  But  the  law 
was  nugatory,  and  the  elections  null  and  void,  so 
long  as  the  words  in  the  formula  of  the  oath,  "  on 
the  true  faith  of  a  Christian,"  stood  in  the  way.  It 
was  now  for  the  first  time  made  permissible  to  omit 
them ;  and  thus  by  a  chance,  which  seems  like  in- 
tention, it  fell  to  the  lot  of  the  chief  of  the  formerly 
intolerant  Tory  party,  and  the  creator  of  Sidonia 
as  representative  of  the  literary  and  political  intel- 
ligence of  the  Jewish  race,  to  introduce  the  rep- 
resentatives of  Jewish  commercial  enterprise  and 


324  Lord  Beacons  field. 

wealth   to   the  exercise  of  their  political  rights  as 
citizens. 

Although  Disraeli's  budget  in  April,  1858,  was 
well  received,  the  position  of  the  Government  was 
extremely  weak.  The  only  possible  means  of  ob- 
taining a  majority  was  to  bring  in  a  Reform  Bill. 
It  had  always  been  Disraeli's  desire  to  snatch  this 
card  from  the  hands  of  the  Whigs,  and  he  now 
made  the  first  attempt,  which  was  encompassed 
with  difficulties  of  all  sorts.  The  Tories  regarded 
every  innovation  in  popular  representation  with  ex- 
treme suspicion,  and  it  was  necessary  for  Disraeli,  in 
order  to  avoid  being  left  in  the  lurch  by  his  own 
party,  so  to  prepare  the  Bill  that  the  Conservatives 
might  hope  for  an  increase  of  votes  from  a  consider- 
able increase  of  agricultural  voters;  on  the  other 
hand,  it  was  easy  to  foresee  that  the  Liberals  would 
think  any  measure  proposed  by  the  Tories  inade- 
quate, even  if  quite  as  honest  in  intention  and  going 
as  far  as  those  which  they  themselves  had  in  re- 
serve. What  an  egg-dance  Disraeli  had  to  execute 
is  clearly  shown  by  the  fact  that  no  sooner  was  his 
scheme  of  reform  laid  before  his  colleagues,  than  two 
of  them  resigned — Henley,  because  he  desired  to 
see  a  much  further  extension  of  the  franchise  among 
the  working  people ;  and  Walpole,  because  he  did 
not  wish  to  see  the  concessions  made  to  them  in 
1832  exceeded.  The  reception  the  Bill  met  with 


Second  Ministerial  Office.  325 

in  the  Cabinet  was  ominous  of  its  further  fate.  It 
was  assailed  with  fierce  criticism  on  all  sides.  The 
whole  of  the  press  was  opposed  to  it:  the  Tory 
organs,  because  they  saw  no  reason  why  they 
should  have  a  Reform  Bill  from  Disraeli,  who  had 
vehemently  opposed  it  when  originated  by  Lord 
John  Russell ;  the  Liberal  papers,  first,  because 
they  did  not  see  why  the  Tory  Ministry  should 
have  the  merit  of  solving  the  great  reform  question, 
and  next,  because  they  had  all  concurred  for  years 
in  calling  Disraeli  a  political  mountebank,  without 
any  real  convictions,  and  they  considered  his  Re- 
form Bill  only  fresh  evidence  how  little  he  was  un 
homme  strieux.  In  Parliament  itself,  the  Bill  was 
opposed  by  Lord  John  Russell  and  the  Radicals 
with  vehemence  and  scorn  as  nothing  but  a  sham. 
The  scheme  was  certainly  not  democratic,  although 
it  went  further  than  the  Whigs'  next  Reform  Bill ; 
but  it  is  certain  that  the  Chancellor  of  the  Ex- 
chequer was  even  then  in  favour  of  a  much  more 
Radical  change  in  the  franchise ;  he  even  proposed 
household  franchise  in  the  Cabinet,  but  was  com- 
pelled to  abandon  it,  convinced  that  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  pass  it  at  that  time.  The  Bill,  being  laid 
before  the  House  in  a  form  which  was  neither  fish 
nor  fowl,  soon  succumbed  to  the  attacks  of  its  ene- 
mies ;  the  Government,  which  had  too  often  before 
been  in  the  minority,  had  in  this  case  a  majority  of 


326  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

thirty-nine  against  it.  The  Liberal  press  was,  of 
course,  triumphant ;  but  it  is  interesting  to  find  one 
among  the  many  merely  scoffing  articles  which  hits 
with  great  subtlety  and  acumen  the  peculiarity  of 
Lord  Beaconsfield : — "  Gone  for  ever  is  the  opportu- 
nity which  Mr.  Disraeli  is  supposed  to  have  been 
aspiring  after,  since  the  first  doors  of  office  opened 
to  his  ambition — that  of  revealing  himself  to  the 
people  of  this  country  as  at  heart  their  friend,  as 
one  with  them  in  political  sympathy  and  purpose, 
though  it  was  his  policy  to  serve,  that  he  might 
ultimately  command,  an  aristocratic  faction."  * 
This  sarcastic  journalist  was  only  mistaken  on  one 
point — the  opportunity  had  by  no  means  gone  for 
ever. 

Disraeli  did  not  accept  his  defeat ;  as  in  all  such 
cases,  he  wished  first  to  appeal  to  the  country; 
Parliament  was  dissolved,  and  the  elections  took 
place  amidst  great  excitement.  They  occurred  just 
as  the  Franco-Austrian  war  was  breaking  out,  and, 
curiously  enough,  English  foreign  sympathies  had 
more  weight  in  the  scale  than  home  politics.  The 
people  wished  to  see  Italy  free  and  united;  the 
Whig  leaders  had  expressed,  in  season  and  out  of 
season,  their  warm  sympathy  for  Sardinia,  and  their 
detestation  of  Austrian  and  Papal  tyranny,  and  had 

*  Hitchman's  "  Public  Life  of  the  Earl  of  Beaconsfield,"  vol.  ii. 

p.  H2. 


Second  Ministerial  Office.  327 

thereby  gained  popularity.  The  Derby  Ministry, 
on  the  contrary,  did  all  in  their  power  to  avert  the 
conflict  between  France  and  Italy,  did  not  to  the 
last  moment  give  up  the  hope  of  preserving  peace, 
and  were,  therefore,  suspected  of  truckling  to  re- 
actionary Austria,  while  they  only  sought  to  curb 
the  Emperor  Napoleon's  warlike  tendencies  for  the 
sake  of  British  interests. 

On  attentively  reading  Disraeli's  speeches  in 
those  days,  on  foreign  policy,  it  is  impossible  to 
doubt  that  his  sympathies  were  much  more  with  the 
old  French  allies  than  with  Austria ;  but  the  impres- 
sion would  also  be  conveyed  that  he  had  no  idea  of 
the  genius  or  resolution  of  Cavour,  who  wanted  to 
bring  on  the  war  ;  he  was  evidently  not  more  clear- 
sighted with  regard  to  Bismarck  just  before  the  out- 
break of  the  Franco-German  war ;  he  spoke  even 
then  of  the  possibility  of  peace  being  maintained 
by  wise  mediation.  The  grand,  simple  foreign  pol- 
icy of  these  statesmen  was  so  foreign  to  his  nature, 
that  his  usual  gift  of  divination  failed  him.  Until 
the  unity  of  Italy  was  an  accomplished  fact,  he 
coldly  called  all  her  efforts  to  attain  it  impracticable 
dreams,  sure  to  be  defeated  by  Austria,  and  attrib- 
uted them  to  the  interest  of  the  Catholic  powers 
in  securing  the  temporal  sovereignty  of  the  Pope. 
The  English  constituencies,  in  whose  eyes  Austria 
was  personified  by  General  Haynau,  on  whom  the 


328  Lord  Beacons  field. 

London  draymen  had  inflicted  lynch  law  for  his 
cruel  suppression  of  the  revolts  in  Lombardy  and 
Hungary,  placed  the  Government  again  in  a  minor- 
ity ;  on  the  first  division  in  the  Commons,  the  Cabi- 
net was  in  a  minority  of  thirteen,  and  thus  the  fate 
of  the  second  Derby-Disraeli  Ministry  was  sealed. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

OPPOSITION,  AND  THE  REFORM   MINISTRY. 

THE  reign  of  the  new  Administration  (Palmer- 
ston-Russell-Gladstone)  was  not  a  very  glorious  one ; 
the  dignity  of  England  was  lowered  under  it  in  the 
eyes  of  the  whole  world,  and  its  blundering  foreign 
policy  was  accompanied  by  two  futile  attempts  to 
solve  the  complicated  Reform  question. 

The  first  attempt,  in  1860,  was  so  weak  and  insig- 
nificant, that  no  one  could  be  surprised  that  it 
proved  a  fiasco.  When  the  measure,  which  ex- 
tended the  franchise  still  less  than  the  Conservative 
Bill  of  the  previous  session,  was  laid  before  the 
House,  it  was  looked  upon  by  both  sides  as  a  mere 
show  ;  it  was  well  known  that  Palmerston  was 
against  any  reform,  and  that  Lord  John  Russell  only 
brought  in  the  Bill  for  conventional  reasons — he 
watched  its  fate  with  so  much  indifference,  that  he 
had  nothing  better  to  say  in  its  favour  than  that  its 
effects  would  be  extremely  limited.  The  Times 
wittily  remarked  that  something  must  be  said,  pro- 
mises must  be  kept,  the  congealed  blood  of  Saint 
Reform  must  be  liquefied  once  in  the  year.  En- 

329 


33O  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

thusiasm,  ay,  even  faith  in  the  fcause  had  long 
since  disappeared,  and  now  we  had  a  cautious  man 
proposing  a  cautious  measure  to  a  cautious  as- 
sembly. 

Under  the  pressure  of  public  opinion  in  the  coun- 
try and  in  Parliament,  and  in  reply  to  Disraeli's 
appeal,  Russell  withdrew  the  Bill. 

During  the  next  few  years,  the  leader  of  the 
Opposition  maintained  his  reputation  more  than 
ever  as  a  keen  and  distinguished  critic  of  the  foreign 
policy  of  the  Government ;  and  it  was  not  a  difficult 
part  to  play,  for  that  policy  falls  mainly  into  three 
great  groups  of  blunders  —  those  relating  to  the 
great  war  in  North  America,  to  the  colonies,  and  to 
Poland  and  Denmark. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  Ministry  did  not  adhere 
with  statesman-like  prudence  to  an  unambiguous 
neutrality  during  the  North  American  civil  war; 
they  rushed  hastily  into  a  recognition  of  the  South- 
ern States  as  a  military  power ;  they  did  not  conceal 
their  sympathies  for  the  "  chivalrous"  confederates ; 
there  were  no  bounds  to  the  national  jealousy  for 
the  great  republic  now  endangered  ;  Gladstone  even 
went  so  far  in  1862  as  to  say  of  Jefferson  Davis,  in  a 
public  speech,  that  he  had  succeeded  in  making  "  an 
independent  nation  "  of  the  Southern  States.  It  all 
the  more  deserves  to  be  recorded  that  Disraeli, 
whose  party  almost  unanimously  sympathized  with 


Opposition,  and  the  Reform  Ministry.         331 

the  slave  States,  observed  the  strictest  neutrality 
during  the  whole  war,  in  order  not  to  increase  the 
difficulties  of  the  Government ;  he  generally  kept 
silence,  and  only  spoke  a  few  times,  partly  to  criti- 
cize the  vacillating  attitude  of  the  Government  and 
Gladstone's  impolitic  expressions,  and  partly  in  a 
conciliatory  spirit,  to  recognize  as  honourable  the 
conduct  of  the  Washington  Cabinet  in  the  Trent 
affair. 

The  indifference  of  the  Whig  Ministers  to  the 
colonies  found  about  this  time  striking  expression 
in  the  public  utterance  of  the  Duke  of  Newcastle 
(Colonial  Secretary),  that  he  "  should  see  a  dissolu- 
tion of  the  bond  between  the  mother  country  and 
Canada  with  the  greatest  pleasure."  These  words 
were  strongly  reprehended  by  Disraeli,  and  his  ap- 
pointment of  the  Queen's  son-in-law,  the  Marquis  of 
Lome,  sixteen  years  later,  as  Governor-General  of 
Canada,  is  a  striking  contrast  to  them.  The  leader 
of  the  Tory  party  protested  with  still  greater  energy 
in  another  affair  of  the  same  kind — the  proposed 
cession  of  the  Ionian  Islands  to  Greece,  on  the  oc- 
casion of  the  accession  of  King  George.  That  the 
cessation  of  the  British  protectorate  was  in  accord- 
ance with  the  repeatedly  expressed  wish  of  the  pop- 
ulation, was  an  aspect  of  the  question  which  the 
Imperial  politician  regarded  as  of  no  moment  what- 
ever. What  he  laid  stress  on  was  the  breach  that 


332  Lord  Be  aeons  fie  Id. 

would  b.e  made  in  the  chain  of  England's  Mediter- 
ranean garrisons  in  the  way  to  India,  and  the  dis- 
crepancy in  the  policy  of  Lord  Palmerston,  who 
had,  with  great  impetuosity,  placed  obstacles  in  the 
way  of  the  construction  of  the  Suez  Canal  on  be- 
half of  Turkey,  and  was  now  ready  to  weaken  Tur- 
key by  the  aggrandizement  of  Greece.  The  fol- 
lowing passage  in  his  speech,  directed  against  hu- 
manitarian considerations,  is  significant  from  its 
reckless  British  energy,  and  psychologically  inter- 
esting : — "  Professors  and  rhetoricians  invent  for 
every  event  a  system,  and  for  every  isolated  case  a 
principle.  You  will  not,  however,  I  hope,  leave  the 
destinies  of  the  British  Empire  to  boys  and  pedants. 
The  statesmen  who  construct,  and  the  warriors  who 
'  achieve,  are  only  influenced  by  the  instinct  of  power, 
and  animated  by  the  love  of  country.  Those  are 
the  feelings,  and  those  the  methods,  which  form 
empires."  It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  acquisition 
of  the  protectorate  of  Cyprus  in  1878  was  an  in- 
structive contrast  to  the  cession  of  the  Ionian  Isles 
in  1863. 

It  required  some  courage  in  Disraeli  in  the  same 
year  to  expose  himself  to  unpopularity,  by  venturing 
to  blame  the  sentimental  conduct  of  the  Govern- 
ment with  regard  to  Poland.  Everybody  is  now 
agreed  that  England's  weak  and  noisy  interference 
in  the  domestic  affairs  of  Russia  was  nothing  but 


Opposition,  and  the  Reform  Ministry.         333 

a  mischief  to  unhappy  Poland,  as  it  deeply  wounded 
the  sensitiveness  of  Russia  and  spurred  on  the 
authorities  to  greater  cruelties  ;  but  at  that  time 
public  opinion  only  regarded  Lord  John  Russell's 
despatches  as  proofs  of  magnanimity,  and  Dis- 
raeli's criticism  as  evidence  of  servile  feeling. 

Closely  connected  with  the  action  of  the  Ministry 
in  respect  to  Poland  was  their  still  more  blamable 
attitude  in  the  Danish  question.  First,  Lord  John 
Russell  offended  the  Emperor  of  the  French  by  not 
only  declining,  but  uncourteously  declining,  his  in- 
vitation to  a  European  Congress,  in  which  the 
Treaty  of  Vienna  was  to  be  revised;  and  he  thereby 
earned  the  malicious  satisfaction  of  France,  at  his 
bungling  and  unsuccessful  attempts  to  arrange  the 
Danish-German  question.  In  a  despatch  in  1862, 
he  called  upon  Denmark  to  yield  to  the  demands 
of  Germany,  and  after  she  had  declined  to  follow 
this  advice,  it  was  disavowed  by  the  Prime  Minister; 
for  Palmerston,  fully  convinced,  as  it  appeared,  that 
Denmark  was  in  the  right,  did  not  hesitate  to  make 
a  solemn  declaration  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
that  in  case  her  territory  were  encroached  upon, 
Denmark  would  not  be  left  to  herself.  Her  terri- 
tory was  encroached  upon,  yet  Denmark  found  her- 
self left  entirely  alone.  Disraeli  exposed  this  dis- 
crepancy in  a  brilliant  speech,  and  demonstrated 
that  there  had  been  "  the  same  weakness,  confusion, 


334  Lord  Beacons  field. 

vacillation,  and  inconsistency"  in  the  Danish  affair 
as  in  the  other  diplomatic  action  of  the  Ministry. 
A  vote  of  want  of  confidence  was  proposed  in  the 
Lords,  to  the  effect  that  "  while  the  course  pursued 
by  her  Majesty's  Government  had  failed  to  maintain 
their  avowed  policy  of  upholding  the  integrity  and 
independence  of  Denmark,  it  had  lowered  the  just 
influence  of  this  country  in  the  counsels  of  Europe, 
and  thereby  diminished  the  securities  of  peace." 

The  vote  was  passed  in  the  Lords,  but  thrown 
out  in  the  Commons,  through  Gladstone's  opposi- 
tion, by  a  majority  of  eighteen.  This  time,  how- 
ever, it  was  the  simple  truth  which  was  defeated  by 
the  majority. 

The  death  of  Palmerston  brought  Lord  John 
Russell,  and  with  him  schemes  of  reform,  to  the 
helm  in  1865.  The  extension  of  that  Parliamentary 
Reform  which  Lord  John  Russell  had  called  "  de- 
finitive " — a  term  soon  repented  of,  often  ridiculed, 
and  which  gave  him  the  nickname  of  "  Finality 
Jack" — had  become  his  favourite  idea.  But  as  he 
was  far  more  imbued  with  a  conviction  of  its 
necessity  than  with  a  passion  for  it  as  a  matter  of 
justice,  all  his  later  reform  projects  bore  the  stamp 
of  indecision ;  they  were  brought  forward  rather 
with  a  view  of  putting  an  end  to  the  everlasting 
reform  difficulties,  and  to  stop  the  mouths  of  the 
Radicals,  than  from  a  political  sense  of  duty.  The 


Opposition,  and  the  Reform  Ministry.         335 

Reform  Bill  of  1866  was  far -more  liberal  than  that 
of  1860 — it  would  have  created  400,000  new  elec- 
tors, half  of  whom  belonged  to  the  working  classes ; 
but  it  was  not  skilfully  prepared,  and,  as  usual, 
satisfied  neither  Conservatives  nor  Liberals ;  a  sec- 
tion of  the  latter  even,  alarmed  at  the  consequences 
of  so  democratic  a  franchise,  voted  against  the  Bill. 
Disraeli's  opposition  was  based  on  his  objection  on 
principle  to  the  Americanizing  of  the  constitution, 
which  he  had  denounced  in  his  "  Vindication  of  the 
English  Constitution,"  and  often  since,  as  well  as  on 
the  patchwork  character  of  the  measure.  Neverthe- 
less, it  was  quite  evident  in  the  next  session  that 
his  opposition  was  more  actuated  by  party  rancour 
than  by  considerations  of  principle.  The  Russell- 
Gladstone  Ministry  fell  with  the  Reform  Bill. 

For  the  third  time'Disraeli  became  Chancellor  of 
the  Exchequer  in  a  Derby  Cabinet,  for  the  third 
time  without  being  able  to  command  a  majority  in 
the  Commons,  and  for  the  third  time  also,  he  was 
decidedly  not  favoured  by  public  opinion.  By  de- 
grees, as  the  great  reform  agitation  increased,  this 
disfavour  grew  to  absolute  hatred,  which  was  mainly 
directed  against  him,  as  the  chief  opponent  of  the 
last  Ministerial  Reform  Bill. 

It  was  now  a  matter  of  course  that  the  Govern- 
ment must  take  the  Reform  question  in  hand,  and 
push  it  forward  with  all  possible  energy.  Reform 


336  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

Bills  had  been  brought  in,  in  1852;  1854,  1858,.  1859, 
1860,  and  1866,  and  had  all  been  rejected.  Lord 
John  Russell,  Lord  Aberdeen,  Lord  Palmerston, 
Lord  Derby,  and  Lord  John  Russell  twice,  had 
tried  to  untie  the  Gordian  knot ;  Disraeli  had  pro- 
fited by  the  mistakes  of  his  predecessors,  and  was 
determined  to  stake  all  his  skill  and  perseverance 
in  obtaining  a  permanent  result.  He  began,  there- 
fore, as  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  by  making  a 
statement,  which  called  forth  roars  of  laughter, 
that  in  the  opinion  of  the  Ministry  the  Reform 
question  was  no  longer  one  that  ought  to  determine 
the  fate  of  a  Government.  Without  allowing  him- 
self to  be  disturbed  by  the  laughter,  he  proceeded 
to  state  that  this  view  was  founded  on  the  consid- 
eration that  all  parties  had  tried  to  carry  a  Reform 
Bill,  and  had  all  failed.  Though  he  spoke  cau- 
tiously and  carefully  on  the  whole,  he  could  not 
deny  himself  the  satisfaction  of  emphasizing  his 
old  doctrine,  that  the  Whig  Reform  Bill  of  1832 
had  placed  the  government  of  the  country  in  the 
hands  of  the  middle  class,  and  had  abolished  the 
franchise  of  the  working  classes,  as  it  had  existed 
before  1832 — a  proceeding,  he  added,  not  without 
finesse,  "which  perhaps  was  natural  for  a  party 
which  had  founded  their  policy  rather  upon  liberal 
opinions  than  popular  rights."  He  stated  further 
that  the  Government,  in  order  to  avoid  the  pre- 


Opposition,  and  the  Reform  Ministry.         337 

vious  miscarriages  of  the  Reform  Bill,  intended  to 
ascertain  the  prevailing  views  in  the  House  by 
submitting  resolutions  to  it.  This  was  the  method 
adopted  by  Disraeli  in  the  Jews  Bill,  and  if  it  was 
not  gratifying  to  his  vanity,  it  had  at  least  the  great 
advantage  that  the  Government  avoided  the  diffi- 
culty of  bringing  in  a  ready-made  measure,  and  of 
having  to  stand  or  fall  by  it.  The  resolutions, 
intended  to  feel  the  pulse  of  the  House,  were  not 
favourably  received ;  their  effect  would  have  been 
to  create  about  400,000  new  electors,  but  by  vari- 
ous restrictions,  among  them  a  double  franchise  for 
certain  classes  of  voters,  they  tried  to  gain  over  the 
Conservatives  for  the  innovations.  A  new  Bill  was 
demanded,  and  in  March,  1867,  Disraeli  laid  it  be- 
fore the  House.  The  result,  according  to  the  open- 
ing speech  of  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer, 
would  by  no  means  be  a  popular  tyranny ;  a  fourth 
part  of  the  electors  would  belong  to  the  aristocracy, 
a  fourth  part  to  the  working  classes,  and  the  re- 
maining half  to  the  middle  class ;  but  at  the  same 
time,  he  had  to  make  the  painful  communication  to 
the  House,  that  three  of  the  most  important  mem- 
bers of  the  Government,  Lord  Carnarvon,  General 
Peel,  and  Lord  Cranborne  (the  present  Marquis  of 
Salisbury),  disapproving  of  the  proposed  extension 
of  the  franchise,  had  laid  down  their  portfolios. 
This  split  in  the  Cabinet  occurred  at  an  inoppor- 
15 


338  Lord  Bcaconsficld. 

tune  moment,  but  it  was  to  be  expected,  for  the 
Bill  was  far  more  Radical  than  that  of  the  Whigs, 
the  most  Radical  which  had  been  laid  before  the 
House.  It  was  based  upon  the  principle  of  house- 
hold suffrage,  that  is,  that  every  man  who  rents  a 
house  should  have  a  vote,  irrespective  of  the  amount 
of  rent ;  and  the  Conservative  guarantees,  which 
were  to  some  extent  to  make  up  for  these  great 
concessions,  consisted  chiefly  in  the  limitation  of 
the  franchise  to  ratepayers,  in  allowing  two  votes, 
as  before  mentioned,  to  certain  electors  possessing 
a  double  qualification,  and  on  the  condition  that 
those  householders  only  should  have  a  vote  who 
had  rented  a  house  for  two  years.  The  most  inter- 
esting remark,  in  a  psychological  point  of  view, 
which  fell  from  the  Chancellor  in  defending  this 
measure  from  the  attacks  of  the  ultra-Conservatives, 
was  his  reply  to  Lord  Cranborne — then  his  vehe- 
ment opponent,  but  now  his  thoroughly  broken-in 
colleague — who  angrily  called  attention  to  the  dis- 
crepancy between  Disraeli's  reserved  attitude  to- 
wards reform  in  1858,  and  his  present  revolutionary 
Bill.  Disraeli  appealed  to  the  testimony  of  those  still 
living,  that  even  then,  in  the  Derby  Cabinet  of  that 
time,  he  had  proposed  the  principle  of  household 
suffrage  as  the  only  trustworthy  basis  of  Reform.* 

*  Compare    the    speech    "  Representation    of   the    People,"    in 
"  Speeches  on  the  Conservative  Policy,"  p.   156.     The  interesting 


Opposition,  and  the  Reform  Ministry.       339 

But  it  was  from  the  Liberal  party,  and  not  from 
the  extreme  Tories,  that  the  Bill  had  to  sustain  the 
most  threatening  attacks.  Gladstone  subjected  it, 
point  by  point,  to  severe,  and  on  the  whole  skilful 
criticism.  Bit  by  bit  the  Conservative  guarantees 
fell  beneath  his  axe,  and  to  the  general  surprise,  it 
appeared  that  Disraeli  himself  was  the  first  to  de- 
clare his  willingness  to  let  them  go.  The  Chancel- 
lor did  not  even  attempt  to  defend  the  double  vote ; 
he  had,  in  submitting  the  resolution,  declared  this 
measure  to  be  unimportant,  and  immediately  gave 
way.  He  further  renounced  the  restriction  of  the 
franchise  fo  ratepayers,  and  the  two  years'  pos- 
session for  which  one  year  was  substituted.  He 
even  conceded  the  franchise  to  lodgers  paying  .£10 
rent,  and  declared  that  he  had  always  in  his  heart 
been  favourable  to  this  measure.  He  gave  way  on 
every  point  on  which  it  was  necessary  to  give  way 
in  order  to  pass  a  Bill,  even  if  not  his  original  one, 
and  by  a  dexterous  manoeuvre,  which  caused  the  de- 
fection of  about  thirty  moderate  members  of  the 
Liberal  party,  he  succeeded  in  defeating  Gladstone's 
amendment  on  the  first  reading. 

collection  of  speeches  "  On  Parliamentary  Reform  "  only  extends  as 
far  as  1866,  but  it  affords  a  good  insight  into  the  stages  through 
which  the  reform  schemes  and  Lord  Bcaconsfield  have  passed. 
See,  for  example,  pp.  82,  175,  276,  351,  ff.  Compare  also  W.  N. 
Molcsworth,  "  The  History  of  England  from  the  Year  1830,"  Ui. 
p.  412,  ff. 


34O  Lord  Beaconsficld. 

The  activity  which  Disraeli  displayed  during  this 
session  may,  without  exaggeration,  be  truly  called 
gigantic ;  he  spoke  on  the  Reform  Bill  alone  no  less 
than  310  times,  and  introduced  his  budget  with  a 
speech,  the  masterly  clearness  of  which  found  gen- 
eral recognition,  and  even  the  Times,  then  Disraeli's 
determined  opponent,  felt  compelled  to  write  a  com- 
mendatory article.  Thanks  to  this  extraordinary 
energy,  he  succeeded  in  steering  clear  of  all  threat- 
ening dangers,  and  in  bringing  his  Reform  Bill  safe 
into  port.  There  were,  it  is  true,  but  a  few  great 
outlines  of  the  original  measure  left ;  indeed,  an 
amendment  from  the  Liberals,  by  which  the  number 
of  electors  was  nearly  quadrupled,  had  been  adopted. 
But  little  as  the  Bill,  as  finally  passed,  agreed  with 
the  original  scheme,  there  was  certainly  no  want  of 
accord  between  it  and  the  personal  views  of  the 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer ;  for  Disraeli  had  no 
fear  whatever  that  the  Bill  would  result  in  a  future 
government  by  the  masses ;  he  met  the  forebodings 
of  the  present  Marquis  of  Salisbury  with  great  con- 
fidence, and  twelve  years'  experience  has  proved 
that  he  was  right. 

By  July,  1867,  this  important  measure,  which  es- 
sentially changed  the  basis  of  the  British  Constitu- 
tion, had  passed  the  ordeal  of  the  three  readings, 
and  was,  in  fact,  the  realization  of  Disraeli's  old 
programme  :  the  maintenance  of  the  people's  rights 


Opposition,  and  the  Reform  Ministry.         341 

by  Tory  leadership.  A  passage  in  a  speech  at  a 
banquet  in  Edinburgh,  given  in  his  honour,  which 
has  been  often  quoted  and  much  ridiculed,  throws 
an  interesting  light  on  Disraeli's  conduct  in  this 
business.  "  Now  mark  this,  ,because  these  are  things 
which  you  may  not  have  heard  in  any  speech  which 
has  been  made  in  the  city  of  Edinburgh  ;  I  had  to 
prepare  the  mind  of  the  country — to  educate,  if  it  be 
not  too  arrogant  to  use  such  a  phrase — to  educate 
our  party,  which  is  a  large  party,  and,  of  course,  re- 
quires its  attention  to  be  called  to  questions  of  this 
character  with  some  pressure  ;  and  I  had  to  prepare 
the  mind  of  Parliament  and  of  the  country  in  this 
question  of  Reform."  * 

It  appears  to  me  that  Disraeli  here  utters,  in  a 
half-humorous  form,  the  most  serious  and  most 
deeply  felt  words  which  ever  passed  his  lips  in  ref- 
erence to  his  relations  with  the  Tory  party.  He 
had,  as  Wellington  and  Peel  had  formerly  done,  to 
pass  liberal  measures  as  Conservative  leader,  simply 
because,  in  this  century  and  in  a  country  like  Eng- 
land, such  measures  only  can  be  passed  ;  but,  unlike 
his  predecessors,  he  had  never  shared  the  rigid 
Conservatism  of  his  party,  but  from  the  first,  he 
regarded  it  as  a  necessity  to  put  an  end  to  Conser- 
vatism of  this  sort,  and  as  his  mission  to  do  it.  He 

*  O'Connor's  "  Life  of  Lord  Beaconsficld,"  p.  577. 


342  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

strikingly  says,  in  the  speech  at  Edinburgh  above 
mentioned :  "  It  is  as  fallacious  an  opinion  in  poli- 
tics, as  in  science,  to  suppose  that  you  can  establish 
a  party  upon  resistance  to  change ;  and  for  this  rea- 
son, that  change  is  inevitable  in  a  progressive  coun- 
try. Change  is  inevitable,  but  the  point  is  whether 
that  change  shall  be  carried  out  in  deference  to  the 
manners,  the  customs,  the  laws,  the  traditions  of  the 
people,  or  whether  it  shall  be  carried  in  deference 
to  abstract  principles  and  arbitrary  and  general  doc- 
trines." 

It  must  undoubtedly  be  regarded  as  a  real  merit 
in  Lord  Beaconsfield  to  have  brought  the  old  Tory 
aristocracy  to  follow  then,  and  to  follow  still,  a 
leader  with  views  like  these. 

In  February,  1868,  an  event  occurred  which 
was  destined  to  realize  Benjamin  Disraeli's  wildest 
youthful  dreams.  Lord  Derby  retired  from  public 
life,  and  warmly  recommended  the  Chancellor  of 
the  Exchequer  to  the  Queen,  as  his  only  possible 
successor.  By  a  singular  chance,  Disraeli  was  sum- 
moned to  the  Queen  by  his  first  victorious  political 
opponent,  the  son  of  Earl  Grey,  who  defeated  him 
at  his  election  eft  High  Wycombe,  and  now  held 
an  office  at  Court,  and  Disraeli  left  the  Sovereign's 
presence  as  Prime  Minister.  Little  as  he  was  liked 
in  many  quarters,  there  was  a  general  feeling  in  the 
country  that  he  had  honourably  won  the  distinction 


Opposition,  and  the  Reform  Ministry.       343 

now  accorded  to  him,  by  his  rare  capabilities  and 
persistent  hard  work  for  many  years ;  and  when  he 
walked  for  the  first  time  in  his  new  honours  from 
Downing  Street  to  the  House  of  Commons,  he  was 
greeted  with  enthusiastic  applause,  both  on  the  way 
and  in  the  lobby  of  the  House.  And  yet  this  cov- 
eted position  was  literally  scarcely  won  before  it 
had  to  be  looked  upon  as  lost.  The  Prime  Minister 
was,  and  continued  to  be,  in  a  minority,  just  as  the 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  had  been.  The  first 
serious .  debate  was  sure  to  cause  his  fall,"  and  the 
Fenian  disturbances  in  Ireland  soon  furnished  the 
occasion.  Gladstone,  supported  by  the  whole  of  his 
party,  proposed  the  abolition  of  the  Irish  State 
Church.  In  vain  Disraeli  characterized  it  as  a 
senseless  half-measure,  for  the  opinions  which  led  to 
it  must  lead  to  the  abolition  of  the  State  Church  in 
England  and  Scotland ;  in  vain  he  assumed  his  most 
unctuous  tone  in  his  repeated  declarations  that 
"  the  sa.cred  union  between  Church  and  State  was 
the  chief  means  of  our  civilization  and  the  sole 
guarantee  of  religious  liberty ; "  in  vain  he  finally 
asserted  that  neither  the  philosophers  who  flattered 
themselves  that  they  were  advancing  the  cause  of 
liberty,  nor  the  sectaries  who  dreamed  that  the 
downfall  of  ecclesiastical  systems  would  be  hast- 
ened, would  derive  any  advantage  from  the  abo- 
lition of  the  Irish  Church,  but  only  the  Pope,  a 


344  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

foreign  ruler,  whose  authority  would  be  substituted 
for  that  of  the  Queen.  The  Commons  were  favour- 
able to  the  measure,  and  when  the  new  elections 
took  place,  and  the  Prime  Minister  hoped  to  earn 
thanks  for  his  Reform  Bill,  now  for  the  first  time 
coming  into  force,  the  people  returned  a  House  in 
which  he  had  twice  the  majority  against  him  that 
he  had  before.  Before  Parliament  met,  Disraeli  va- 
cated his  post  as  Premier  in  favour  of  Gladstone. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

"LOTHAIR,"  AND   FOURTH   MINISTERIAL  OFFICE. 

IN  looking  back  to  the  doctrines  first  propounded 
by  Disraeli,  and  to  his  action  during  the  three  oc- 
casions of  his  holding  Ministerial  office,  it  will  be 
found  that  there  is  but  one  that  has  been  entirely 
dropped — the  doctrine  of  the  personal  government 
of  the  Sovereign.  When  Sir  Robert  Peel  came  into 
conflict  with  the  Queen  in  1839,  on  his  demanding 
the  dismissal  of  the  ladies  of  the  Court — the  Bed- 
chamber Plot,  so  called — Disraeli,  in  spite  of  his 
theories,  justified  Sir  Robert  Peel.  When,  in  1853, 
the  assumed  unconstitutional  influence  of  Prince 
Albert  was  criticized  in  Parliament,  he  said  not  a 
word  in  defence  of  "  a  free  Sovereign,"  and  al- 
though it  is  sometimes  said  that  he  has  won  to  so 
unusual  an  extent  '.he  favour  of  the  Queen  by  com- 
plaisant concession,  it  appears  to  me,  as  far  as  I  am 
able  to  judge,  to  be  always  his  will  which  the  Queen 
carries  out  when  she  maintains  her  own. 

Although  the  fall  of  the  Tory  Ministry  in  1868 
was  occasioned  by  Disraeli's  opposition  to  the  abo- 
lition of  the  Irish  Church,  he  had  evidently  not  di- 
15*  345 


346  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

verged  in  any  respect  from  his  youthful  opinions  as 
to  the  equal  political  rights  of  the  Catholics;  but, 
like  more  than  one  European  statesman  during  the 
years  preceding  the  proclamation  of  Papal  Infalli- 
bility, he  foresaw  the  approaching  Catholic  reaction. 
He  foretold  it  at  a  time  when  Gladstone  set  it  aside 
as  an  imaginary  danger — to  combat  it,  when  too 
late,  with  the  utmost  vehemence — and  all  Disraeli's 
enthusiasm  "  for  the  only  existing  Hebrew-Christian 
Church"  vanished  before  political  considerations. 
His  opposition  was  fruitless ;  the  Gladstone  Ministry 
carried  the  abolition  of  the  Irish  Church. 

Disraeli  employed  his  comparative  leisure  in  once 
more  writing  a  novel  after  a  lapse  of  twenty  years, 
the  immediate  tendency  of  which  was  to  vindicate 
his  warnings  against  the  increasing  Popish  tenden- 
cies in  Great  Britain.  "  Lothair"  appeared  in  1870. 

This  novel  bears  evident  traces  of  the  fact  that 
the  author  was  now  advanced  in  years ;  it  is  the 
product  of  fuller  and  riper  experience  than  his 
earlier  works ;  it  contains  no  mere  political  descrip- 
tions, no  attacks  on  living  personages;  it  has,  in 
fact,  the  virtues  of  age ;  but  taken  as  a  whole,  it 
is  a  repetition  of  his  previous  writings,  especially 
of  "  Tancred,"  and  the  style  betrays  the  old  man. 
During  the  years  immediately  preceding,  a  new 
element  had  crept  into  Disraeli's  oratorical  efforts, 
and  his  attitude  as  a  Parliamentary  speaker — a 


"Lothair"  and  Fourth  Ministerial  Office.     347 

stamp  of  officialism.  It  is  this  which  gives  the  final 
touches  to  his  descriptions  of  character.  Not  that 
his  speeches  had  ever  lost  their  wit  or  sarcasm  ;  he 
was  still  the  same  incomparable  fencer  in  debate — 
as,  for  example,  in  the  last  session  of  the  Reform 
Ministry,  Mr.  Beresford  Hope  had  jestingly  alluded 
to  the  "Asian  mystery,"  and  he  replied  with  in- 
comparable humour  that  when  the  right  honourable 
gentleman  spoke  of  Asian  mysteries,  there  was  "  a 
Batavian  grace  about  his  exhibition  which  takes 
the  sting  out  of  what  he  has  said."  After  this  no 
Englishman  could  hear  Mr.  Beresford  Hope's  name 
mentioned  without  thinking  of  "  Batavian  grace." 
His  wit  was  still  sparkling  enough,  but  his  pathos, 
which  had  never  been  very  simple,  had  considerably 
degenerated.  It  had  always  been  getting  more 
abstract,  affected,  and  pompous,  until  in  "  Lothair," 
where  he  allowed  himself  full  scope,  it  fell  into  the 
absurdities  which  Bret  Harte  has  so  capitally  paro- 
died. * 

What  makes  "  Lothair  "  psychologically  interest- 
ing arises  from  the  same  position  of  affairs  that  has 
made  the  style  official,  namely,  that  the  author 

*  This  simple  yet  first-class  conversation  existed  in  the  morning- 
room  of  Plusham,  where  the  mistress  of  the  palatial  mansion  sat 
involved  in  the  sacred  privacy  of  a  circle  of  her  married  daughters. 
.  .  .  Beautiful  forms  leaned  over  frames  glowing  with  embroidery, 
and  beautiful  frames  leaned  over  forms  inlaid  with  mother-of-pearl. 
— Bret  Harte,  "  Lothair  by  Mr.  Benjamins." 


348  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

stands  at  the  summit  of  his  wishes,  and  has  realized 
his  schemes,  so  that  he  no  longer  needs  to  take  vari- 
ous circumstances  into  consideration.  "Lothair" 
is  a  more  straightforward  book  than  the  "  Trilogy," 
so  called,  which  preceded  it.  It  is  not  only  without 
false  mysticism,  but,  in  a  religious  point  of  view,  it 
is  the  most  openly  free-thinking  work  that  Disraeli 
has  written,  so  opposed  to  miracles  that  it  might  be 
taken  for  the  work  of  a  Rationalist  if  the  fantastic 
author  had  not  signed  it  with  his  fantastic  doctrine, 
never  renounced,  of  the  sole  victorious  Semitic  prin- 
ciple. 

The  conversion  of  a  few  fabulously  wealthy  mem- 
bers of  the  English  aristocracy  to  the  Church  of 
Rome  during  the  preceding  years,  especially  of  the 
young  Marquis  of  Bute,  seems  to  have  suggested 
the  plan  of  "  Lothair."  The  hero  is  a  young  man  of 
the  same  species  as  the  heroes  in  all  Disraeli's  later 
novels,  of  very  high  rank,  more  than  princely 
wealth,  and  of  a  religious  temperament  like  Tan- 
cred.  His  sole  idea  on  entering  life  is  to  attain 
clearness  as  to  the  truths  of  religion,  and  to  learn 
which  of  the  various  orthodoxies  is  the  true  one. 
His  ambition  does  not  extend  beyond  making 
choice  among  them  ;  to  make  this  choice  is  what  he 
understands  by  attaining  to  a  view  of  life.  He 
resolves  to  devote  part  of  his  colossal  fortune  to 
building  a  cathedral,  without  knowing  whether  it  is 


"Lot hair"  and  Fourth  Ministerial  Office.     349 

to  be  Catholic  or  Protestant.  The  influence  of  his 
guardian,  a  highly  educated  and  very  worldly  wise 
cardinal,  and  of  an  amiable  Catholic  family  with 
whom  he  associates,  makes  the  cathedral  tend  to  the 
Papal  side,  when  Lothair  meets  with  "  his  good 
genius,"  Theodora,  and  all  his  castles  and  cathe- 
drals in  the  air  crumble  away  before  the  breath  gf 
liberty  from  her  lips.  Theodora  is  (like  the  young 
girl  with  the  Jacobin  cap  in  Delacroix's  picture  in 
the  Luxembourg)  at  once  a  woman  and  a  goddess 
of  liberty.  An  Italian  patriot,  originally  a  poor 
street-singer,  a  child  of  the  people,  and  an  ardent 
free-thinker,  she  is  the  powerful  feminine  chief  of 
the  secret  societies  of  Italy.  For  the  sake  of  the 
liberties  of  nations,  she  has  sacrificed  her  fortune, 
her  jewels,  her  private  life,  and  repose,  and  ends  by 
hazarding  her  life  as  a  heroine  and  falling  as  a 
martyr  at  Mentana.  Theodora's  spirit  of  liberty  is 
as  fatal  to  Lothair's  narrowness  as  Venetia's  supe- 
riority was  to  the  politico-religious  orthodoxy  of 
young  Cadurcis.  Theodora  teaches  Lothair  that 
"'what  is  called  orthodoxy  has  very  little  to  do 
with  religion ;  and  a  person  may  be  very  religious 
without  holding  the  same  dogmas  as  yourself,  or, 
as  some  think,  without  holding  any.'  .  .  .  '  Tell 
me,  then,  I  entreat  you,  what  is  your  religion?' 
'  The  true  religion,  I  think,'  said  Theodora.  .  .  . 
'  My  conscience.' " 


35O  "  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

And  to  his  question  whether  she  never  needed 
any  outward  guidance,  she  answered,  "  I  have 
never  heard  from  priests  any  truth  which  my  con- 
science had  not  revealed  to  me.  They  use  different 
language  from  what  I  use,  but  I  find  after  a  time 
that  we  mean  the  same  thing.  What  I  call  time, 
they  call  eternity;  when  they  describe  heaven,  they 
give  a  picture  of  earth ;  and  beings  whom  they 
style  divine,  they  invest  with  all  the  attributes  of 
humanity."* 

It  is  quite  intelligible  that  a  woman  holding  views 
like  these  does  not  look  upon  the  Pope  and  his  tem- 
poral power  with  friendly  eyes :  "  I  do  not  grudge 
him  his  spiritual  subjects ;  I  am  content  to  leave  his 
superstition  to  time.  Time  is  no  longer  slow ;  his 
scythe  mows  quickly  in  this  age.  But  when  his  de- 
basing creeds  are  palmed  off  on  man  by  the  author- 
ity of  our  glorious  Capitol,  and  the  slavery  of  the 
human  mind  is  schemed  and  carried  on  in  the 
Forum,  then,  if  there  be  real  Roman  blood  left,  and 
I  thank  my  Creator  there  is  much,  it  is  time  for  it 
to  mount  and  move,"  said  Theodora,  f 

It  might  have  been  supposed  that  Lothair's 
acquaintance  with  Theodora  would  have  delivered 
him  for  ever  from  the  meshes  of  Catholicism.  But 
such  is  not  the  case;  through  a  chain  of  surprising, 

*  "  Lothair,"  p.  163.  f  Ibid.  p.  265. 


"Lothair"  and  Fourth  Ministerial  Office.     351 

yet  entirely  natural  events,  he  soon  finds  himself 
more  closely  entangled  in  them  than  ever.  No 
other  of  Disraeli's  novels  has  a  plot  so  carefully 
constructed  as  this.  When  the  revolt  in  Italy 
breaks  out,  Lothair  accompanies  the  troops  as  a 
volunteer  commanded  by  Theodora's  husband,  and 
falls  severely  wounded  at  Mentana;  but  when  he  is 
brought  unconscious  to  Rome,  where  all  his  English 
Catholic  acquaintances  are  staying,  the  cardinal  and 
his  spiritual  friends  find  it  convenient  to  spread  a 
report  of  the  miraculous  rescue  of  Lothair  by  means 
of  a  Madonna  revelation,  and  so  to  represent  the 
matter  in  the  Catholic  papers  as  to  make  it  appear 
that  he  had  been  fighting  on  the  "  right "  side,  and 
had  received  his  wounds  as  a  faithful  soldier  of  the 
Holy  Father.  When  convalescent,  he  happens  to 
take  up  one  of  these  papers,  the  style  and  tone  of 
which  Disraeli  imitates  in  a  masterly  way,  and  in- 
dignantly calls  its  contents  a  lie.  The  cardinal 
coolly  answers  that  he  knew  well  that  there  were 
two  versions  of  Lothair's  position  at  the  battle  of 
Mentana,  and  that  the  one,  which  could  only  have 
originated  with  Lothair  himself,  was  of  a  somewhat 
different  character,  but  as  this  version,  which  was  in 
itself  extremely  improbable,  was  not  confirmed  by 
any  external  testimony,  there  was  no  justification 
for  the  ill-sounding  epithet  which  Lothair  had  ap- 
plied to  the  article  in  question.  Lothair  must  re- 


352  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

member  that  he  had  been  very  ill,  and  that  illness 
often  impairs  the  memory.  George  IV.  thought  he 
had  taken  part  in  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  had  even 
commanded  at  it,  etc.  Lothair's  mind,  enfeebled  by 
illness,  is  bound  round  by  a  web  of  the  most  deli- 
cate yet  strongest  threads,  and  his  liberty  annihi- 
lated ;  he  is  enticed  to  take  part  in  a  Catholic  pro- 
cession ;  he  is  gently  compelled  to  allow  himself  to 
be  wondered  at  and  adored  as  one  saved  by  a 
miracle;  he  is  just  about  to  become  a  helpless 
victim  when  the  memory  of  Theodora  rouses  his 
last  energies,  and  he  saves  himself  by  sudden 
and  secret  flight.  After  a  journey  to  the  East 
and  a  stay  at  Jerusalem,  inevitable  with  Disraeli, 
he  returns  to  England,  and  marries  a  friend  of  his 
youth. 

"Lothair"  is  an  attempt  to  introduce  repre- 
sentatives of  the  various  prevailing  views  of  life 
in  the  present  day,  and  to  make  them  carry  on 
a  decisive  discussion.  A  cardinal  and  a  bishop 
represent  respectively  one  of  the  chief  European 
Churches.  Theodora  is  spiritualistic  liberalism ; 
the  artist  Phoebus,  a  worshipper  of  nature,  Pan- 
theist and  a  zealous  Hellenist,  represents  free- 
thinking,  which  deifies  the  beautiful,  the  Aryan 
principle;  a  venerable  Syrian  of  Jewish  descent, 
whose  family,  according  to  a  tradition,  was  the 
first  to  follow  Jesus,  is  Semiticism  personified. 


"Lot hair"  and  Fourth  Ministerial  Office.     353 

The  discussion  of  modern  views  of  life  on  Oriental 
soil,  is  an  ever-recurring  reminiscence  of  Disraeli's 
own  travels;  it  occurs  in  "Contarini  Fleming"  and 
in  "  Tancred,"  where  the  race  of  Ansarey,  with  its 
beautiful  queen,  represents  Hellenic  worship  of 
beauty,  as  Phoebus  does  in  "  Lothair ; "  but  it  can 
scarcely  be  said  to  have  gained  in  depth  in  the 
author's  latest  production.  It  strikes  one  as  rather 
comic  when  Phcebus,  the  zealous  devotee  of  the 
Aryan  principle,  ends  by  setting  up  as  Court  painter 
in  St.  Petersburg,  in  order  to  paint  Semitic  subjects 
(incidents  from  the  life  of  Jesus)  for  Mongolian  con- 
noisseurs. But  one  wearies  of  this  perpetual  and 
unscientific  talk  about  race.  Phcebus  is  not  a  real 
human  being,  only  an  affected  counterpart  of  Dis- 
raeli himself  as  a  Semitic  theorist.  While  these 
everlasting  discussions  go  on,  whether  Hellenism  or 
Hebraism — which,  after  all,  do  not  include  every- 
thing— is  the  more  profound  or  exalted  way  of  look- 
ing at  life,  all-uniting,  all-embracing  nature  is  lost 
sight  of.  Everything  resolves  itself  for  our  author 
into  opposing  systems,  political  and  religious  doc- 
trines or  fantasies,  and  it  is  very  characteristic  that 
when  at  last  Madre  Natura  docs  appear  in  his 
books,  it  is  as  the  name  of  a  secret  and  revolution- 
ary society.  One  is  inclined  to  say  that  she  is  not 
to  be  found  in  any  other  form  with  this  enemy  on 
principle,  of  naturalism.  He  always  loved  politics 


354  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

better  than  nature,  and  even  as  a  boy  he  personified 
nature  in  the  form  of  the  political  Muse. 

The  exalted  position  of  the  author,  the  piquant 
fact  that  the  late  Prime  Minister  should  once  more 
appear  as  a  novelist,  achieved  an  unprecedented 
success  for  "  Lothair."  So  great  was  the  demand 
for  the  novel,  that  some  of  the  London  booksell- 
ers took  1 200  copies  of  the  first  edition.  A  single 
firm  in  America  sold  25,000  copies  during  the  first 
month,  and  seven  editions  appeared  in  a  few  weeks; 
the  book  was  stereotyped  in  two  forms,  translated 
into  almost  all  languages,  and,  to  quote  Disraeli's 
own  words  in  the  preface,  has  been  "  more  exten- 
sively read  both  by  the  people  of  the  United  King- 
dom and  the  United  States,  than  any  work  that  has 
appeared  for  the  last  half-century;  "*  a  circumstance 
which  sufficiently  proves  how  little  opinion  can  be 
formed  of  the  value  of  a  book  from  the  number  of 
its  first  readers. 

While  Disraeli's  "  Lothair "  and  Gladstone's 
"  Juventus  Mundi,"  which  appeared  about  the  same 
time,  met  on  drawing-room  tables,  and  were  dis- 
cussed in  London  drawing-room  talk,  the  leader  of 
the  Opposition  was  keeping  pretty  quiet  in  the 
House  of  Commons.  The  last  Parliamentary  trial 
of  strength  was  so  decidedly  against  him,  that  for 

*  General  Preface  to  Novels,  p.  viii. 


"Lothair"  and  Fourth  Ministerial  Office.     355 

the  time  he  waited  patiently  and  left  the  field  to  his 
opponent.  Domestic  and  especially  financial  re- 
forms followed  quickly  one  upon  another  during  his 
five  years'  administration,  and  for  these  undoubtedly 
Gladstone  deserves  the  highest  credit ;  but  parallel 
with  these  internal  improvements  ran  that  series  of 
blunders  and  defeats  in  foreign  policy  which  made 
England  an  object  of  ridicule  to  every  European 
state.  Russia  took  advantage  of  the  want  of  good 
faith  in  English  statesmen  to  tear  up  the  hardly 
won  treaty  of  1856.  Great  Britain,  having  lost  all 
her  influence,  was  unable  to  say  a  word  to  any  pur- 
pose at  the  conclusion  of  the  Franco-German  war. 
The  North  American  States,  embittered  by  the 
want  of  good  faith  in  the  former  Whig  Ministry, 
compelled  England  to  submit  both  the  Alabama 
claims  and  the  San  Juan  affair,  the  question  of  the 
Oregon  frontier,  to  arbitration,  and  the  result  in 
both  cases  was  unfavourable  to  England.  The  sub- 
mission of  the  San  Juan  question  to  the  German 
emperor  ended  in  a  diplomatic  defeat  and  a  loss  of 
territory,  and  the  Geneva  tribunal  imposed  an  enor- 
mous fine  on  England.  It  appeared  that  the  Gov- 
ernment, by  its  bad  management,  had  subjected 
England  to  an  international  court,  constituted  solely 
for  the  occasion,  and  immediately  afterwards  re- 
jected by  the  very  country  in  whose  favour  it  had 
decided.  It  appeared  further  that  Gladstone  was 


356  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

actually  to  blame  for  the  severity  of  the  award,  for 
he  himself  stated  in  the  Commons  that  he  had  not 
felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  read  the  American  indict- 
ment, and  was  therefore  ignorant  of  the  "indirect 
claims"  of  North  America.  It  scarcely  need  be 
said  that  the  foreign  policy  of  the  Ministry  called 
forth  much  Parliamentary  criticism  from  Disraeli. 

Still,  it  was  not  this  weak  foreign  policy  which 
occasioned  the  fall  of  the  Ministry,  but  their  daring 
and  not  always  judicious  internal  reforms.  It  had 
solved  the  problem  of  secret  voting,  which  had  been 
a  standing  question  for  forty  years,  by  the  passing 
of  the  Ballot  Bill,  and  thereby  performed  a  real  ser- 
vice;  but  in  1873,  Gladstone  introduced  a  new  Bill 
for  the  regulation  of  University  instruction  in  Ire- 
land, which  was  intended  to  secure  religious  liberty, 
by  not  only  doing  away  with  the  Protestant  Theo- 
logical Faculty  of  the  Dublin  University,  but  by 
abolition  of  the  lectures  on  philosophy  and  modern 
history.  It  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the 
former  measure  alarmed  the  Conservatives  and  the 
latter  the  Liberals.  Disraeli  made  a  thundering 
speech  against  the  Bill,  and  on  a  division  it  ap- 
peared that  the  powerful  majority  of  a  few  years 
before  had  melted  away.  The  Cabinet  found  itself 
in  a  minority  of  three.  Gladstone  immediately  af- 
terwards offered  to  resign,  but  his  opponent  decid- 
edly declined  to  release  him ;  he  had  had  enough 


"Lothair"  and  Fourth  Ministerial  Office.     357 

of  holding  office  without  a  real  majority  that  could 
be  relied  on,  and  preferred  to  allow  Gladstone  to 
heap  up  discontent  and  ill  will  against  himself  for  a 
whole  year.  In  February,  1874,  the  Ministry  col- 
lapsed, with  a  majority  of  about  fifty  against  it,  and 
Disraeli  formed  a  new  and  powerful  Administration, 
strong  in  a  majority  for  the  first  time  in  both 
Houses,  and  supported  by  the  express  personal  con- 
fidence of  the  Queen.  His  life-work  seemed  now  to 
be  accomplished,  the  regenerated  Tory  party  had 
become  a  power.  When,  in  1876,  he  accepted  a 
peerage  and  passed  into  the  Upper  House,  with  the 
title  of  Earl  and  Viscount,  the  step  was  generally 
supposed  to  be  an  entrance  on  repose ;  it  was 
thought  that  the  Prime  Minister's  advanced  age  and 
weakened  health  no  longer  permitted  him  to  sus- 
tain the  exertion  of  the  leadership  of  the  Commons, 
and  now  that  the  object  of  his  ambition  had  been 
attained,  he  himself  regarded  his  political  career  as 
ended.  This  was  a  great  mistake  we  all  know.  The 
deeds  of  Lord  Beaconsfield  have  thrown  those  of 
Benjamin  Disraeli  into  the  shade.  The  interval  of 
three  years  from  that  time  to  this,  a  short  period  in 
the  life  of  an  old  man,  has  first  given  him  world- 
wide renown.  The  events  of  these  last  years  are 
fresh  in  the  remembrance  of  all. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

PRIME  MINISTER  of  England,  Lord  Privy  Seal, 
Earl  Beaconsfield  of  Beaconsfield,  Viscount  Hugh- 
enden  of  Hughenden,  Knight  of  the  Garter — this 
is  now  the  style  and  title  of  the  man  who  made  his 
ctibut  as  author  and  politician  as  plain  Benjamin 
Disraeli.  Let  us  conclude  by  seeking  an  answer  to 
the  concise  question  he  himself  asked  at  the  outset 
of  his  career :  What  is  he  ? 

He  is  above  all  a  great  example  of  the  steady 
perseverance  of  genius.  He  understands  the  art  of 
striving  and  waiting.  Few  men  have  sustained  so 
long  a  series  of  defeats,  so  much  ridicule  and  con- 
tempt, and  have  been  so  undaunted  by  disaster 
and  misfortune.  The  ridicule  was  more  dangerous 
than  the  defeats ;  but  if  a  striking  example  were 
wanted  to  demonstrate  that  true  talent  cannot  be 
extinguished  by  the  attacks  of  the  press,  Lord 
Beaconsfield  furnishes  that  example.  He  has  been 
assailed  by  many  thousands  of  cutting  articles,  with 
no  friendly  press  to  defend  him  with  anything  like 
equal  talent  or  zeal.  He  found  it  hard  to  get  him- 

358 


Conclusion.  359 

self  regarded  as  a  statesman  at  all.  The  tone  of 
the  press  against  him  is  still  venomous  and  personal, 
and  yet,  with  rare  coolness,  he  leaves  not  only  these 
attacks,  old  and  new,  unanswered,  but  even  misrep- 
resentations of  facts.  At  least  ten  times  in  a  year 
the  old  story  of  O'Connell's  letter  of  recommenda- 
tion is  dished  up  for  him.  From  the  very  outset  of 
his  career,  one  of  his  apparently  insignificant,  but 
most  dangerous  enemies  has  been  Punch.  From 
the  beginning  of  the  fourth  up  into  the  sixth  decade 
of  this  century,  Leech,  the  cleverest  and  most  pop- 
ular caricaturist  in  England,  furnished  this  paper, 
the  tendencies  of  which  are  Liberal,  with  a  sketch 
of  him  in  the  most  absurd  situations  and  disguises. 
It  is  worthy  of  note  that  in  1868,  when  Leech's 
widow,  who  had  been  put  on  the  Pension  List  by 
the  Whig  Ministry,  died  four  years  after  her  hus- 
band, Disraeli  ordered  that  the  pension  should  be 
continued  to  her  orphan  children. 

For  more  than  twenty  years  the  press  has  deter- 
mined public  opinion  about  him,  and  yet  he  has 
pushed  his  way.  His  story  is  not  that  of  the  ugly 
duckling,  who  dreads  and  flees  from  persecution 
until  one  fine  day  it  is  discovered  that  it  is  inno- 
cence itself,  and  is  rewarded  by  the  children  with 
bread  and  cakes.  He  has  never  been  free  from  the 
danger  of  attacks,  has  never  fled  from  them,  and 
has  fought  for  recognition  as  a  bird  of  prey  fights 


360  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

for  his  booty.  "  It  came  at  last,  as  everything  does, 
if  men  are  firm  and  calm,"  as  he  says  in  "  Sybil." 
What  is  remarkable,  and  almost  unique,  is  the  cer- 
tainty with  which,  conscious  of  his  powers  and 
energy,  he  foresaw  his  late  and  distant  triumphs 
from  his  earliest  youth.  The  reader,  perhaps,  re- 
members the  passage  in  "  Contarini  Fleming," 
where  the  hero  sees  "  seated  upon  a  glorious  throne, 
on  a  proud  Acropolis,  one  to  whom  a  surrounding 
and  enthusiastic  people  offered  a  laurel  crown ; "  * 
and  he  will  confess  that  the  vision  was  surpassed  by 
reality  on  the  day  when  Lord  Beaconsfield  was  re- 
ceived by  the  first  men  and  women  in  the  land  at 
Charing  Cross  station  on  his  return  from  the  Berlin 
Congress,  admired  and  applauded,  crowned  and 
sung  by  the  people  as  the  bringer  of  "  Peace  with 
Honour,"  and  finally  conducted  to  his  Ministerial 
residence  amidst  an  endless  shower  of  bouquets. 
The  presence  of  Sir  Moses  Montefiore  on  the  occa- 
sion, at  ninety  years  of  age,  gave  to  the  celebration 
a  sort  of  symbolic  character,  which  could  not  fail  to 
make  a  strong  impression  on  the  heart  of  the  man 
who  loves  to  regard  himself  as  the  representative  of 
his  race. 

Perseverance  is  not  a  simple,  indissoluble  quality. 
It  may  combine  many  elements,  and   have   many 

*  "Contarini  Fleming,"  p.  167. 


Conclusion.  361 

sources.  Lord  Beaconsfield's  perseverance  may  be 
assigned  to  his  imaginative  character :  he  has  had, 
to  a  surprising  extent,  the  faculty  of  foreseeing  his 
destiny,  and  because  he  foresaw  it,  he  persevered. 

He  has,  then,  a  fertile  imagination ;  but  is  he  a 
poet? 

It  is  the  fashion  to  deny  it,  but  it  appears  to  me 
that  the  question  should  be  answered  in  the  affirm- 
ative. He  certainly  cannot  be  classed  among  the 
great  and  faultless  poets,  nor  even  among  those 
who  love  and  pursue  their  art  for  its  own  sake ;  he 
has  seldom  respected  the  forms  of  art,  and  the  liter- 
ature of  his  country  is  not  indebted  to  him  for  any 
poetical  or  technical  progress.  But  it  is  pedantic  so 
to  limit  the  conception  of  a  poet  that  little  chirping 
lyrical  writers  are  included  within  it,  while  creative 
spirits  are  left  out.  Disraeli  appeared  at  first  to  be 
a  born  satirist ;  he  possessed  a  genuine  Voltairean 
wit.  If  any  one  doubts  it,  let  him  read  the  little 
story,  "  Ixion  in  Heaven,"  dating  from  the  first  pe- 
riod (1832) ;  it  is  a  classic  model,  a  little  masterpiece 
of  composition,  and  even  Heine  might  envy  the  au- 
thor for  the  ideas.  From  the  productions  of  pure 
wit,  Disraeli  gradually  attained  to  those  in  which 
feeling  and  passion  were  the  groundwork.  In  spite 
of  its  failings,  "Contarini  Fleming"  called  forth  an 
appreciative  letter  from  Goethe  to  the  author,  and  a 
favourable  criticism  from  Heine.  But  Lord  Bea- 

16 


362  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

consfield  did  not  find  his  peculiar  sphere  until  he 
created  the  form  most  natural  to  him,  that  of  the 
political  novel.  It  was  not  a  generally  recognized 
form  of  art,  but  it  was  that  which  gave  the  most 
flattering  scope  to  his  talents.  Within  this  frame- 
work, he  could  give  free  play  to  his  inventive  faculty 
and  his  rhetoric,  could  entertain  while  he  propa- 
gated his  views,  give  vent  to  his  enthusiasm,  and 
discourse  on  politics.  Rhapsodical  as  this  form  is, 
it  is  original  and  convenient,  and  is  sure  to  be  imi- 
tated when  some  other  fictitious  writer  feels  im- 
pelled to  employ  his  talents  in  the  service  of  the 
political  conflicts  of  his  time. 

Is  he,  as  he  considers  himself,  a  representative 
man  ?  Can  he  truly  be  said  to  be  a  representative 
of  the  Semitic  race?  If  the  question  be  put  in  this 
direct  form,  it  must  be  decidedly  answered  in  the 
negative.  For  the  Jewish  mind  has  revealed  itself 
in  far  more  affluent  and  nobler  forms  than  in  Dis- 
raeli's comparatively  limited  mental  range ;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  classes  among  the  Jews  many 
great  men  whose  Jewish  origin  is  wholly  unproved. 
Extravagant  eulogiums  of  the  abilities  of  the  mod- 
ern Jews  are  not  wanting  in  his  writings.  He  is 
wearisome  in  his  works  with  his  perpetual  lists  of 
great  Jewish  poets,  composers,  actors  and  actresses, 
politicians  and  authors,  singers  and  dancers,  etc.  ; 
but  when  he  descants  upon  the  peculiar  psychology 


Conclusion.  363 

of  his  race,  one  is  amazed  at  the  narrowness  of  his 
standpoint.  In  the  "  Life  of  Bentinck"  he  has  tried 
to  sketch  this  psychology  as  follows : — 

"The  Jewish  race  connects  the  modern  popula- 
tions with  the  early  ages  of  the  world,  when  the 
relations  of  the  Creator  with  the  created  were  more 
intimate  than  in  these  days,  when  angels  visited  the 
earth,  and  God  Himself  even  spoke  with  men.  The 
Jews  represent  the  Semitic  principle;  all  that  is 
spiritual  in  our  nature.  They  are  the  trustees  of 
tradition,  and  the  conservators  of  the  religious  ele- 
ment. They  are  a  living  and  the  most  striking 
evidence  of  the  falsity  of  that  pernicious  doctrine  of 
modern  times,  the  natural  equality  of  man.  The 
political  equality  of  a  particular  race  is  a  matter  of 
municipal  arrangement,  and  depends  entirely  on 
political  considerations  and  circumstances;  but  the 
natural  equality  of  man  now  in  vogue,  and  taking 
the  form  of  cosmopolitan  fraternity,  is  a  principle 
which,  were  it  possible  to  act  on  it,  would  deterio- 
rate the  great  races  and  destroy  all  the  genius  of  the 
world.  .  .  .  They  have  also  another  characteristic, 
the  faculty  of  acquisition.  Although  the  European 
laws  have  endeavoured  to  prevent  their  obtaining 
property,  they  have  nevertheless  become  remarka- 
ble for  their  accumulated  wealth.  Thus  it  will  be 
seen  that  all  the  tendencies  of  the  Jewish  race  are 
Conservative.  Their  bias  is  to  religion,  property, 


364  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

and  natural  aristocracy;  and  it  should  be  the 
interest  of  statesmen  that  this  bias  of  a  great  race 
should  be  encouraged,  and  their  energies  and  crea- 
tive powers  enlisted  in  the  cause  of  existing  society. 

"But  existing  society  has  chosen  to  persecute 
this  race  which  should  furnish  its  choice  allies;  and 
what  have  been  the  consequences? 

"They  may  be  traced  in  the  last  outbreak  of 
the  destructive  principle  in  Europe.  An  insurrec- 
tion takes  place  against  tradition  and  aristocracy, 
against  religion  and  property.  Destruction  of  the 
Semitic  principle,  extirpation  of  the  Jewish  relig- 
ion, whether  in  the  Mosaic  or  in  the  Christian  form, 
the  natural  equality  of  man  and  the  abrogation  of 
property  are  proclaimed  by  the  secret  societies,  who 
form  provisional  governments,  and  men  of  the 
Jewish  race  are  found  at  the  head  of  every  one  of 
them.  The  people  of  God  co-operate  with  atheists ; 
the  most  skilful  accumulators  of  property  ally 
themselves  with  Communists;  the  peculiar  and 
chosen  race  touch  the  hand  of  all  the  scum  and  low 
castes  of  Europe.  And  all  this  because  they  wish  to 
destroy  that  ungrateful  Christendom  which  owes  to 
them  even  its  name,  and  whose  tyranny  they  can 
no  longer  endure."  * 

Had  Spinoza,  who  eught  to  have  a  voice  on  the 

*  "  Life  of  Lord  George  Bentinck,"  p.  495. 


Conclusion.  365 

question  of  Jewish  genius,  read  this'  effusion,  he 
would  certainly  have  shaken  his  noble  head.  I  do 
not  know  whether  Disraeli  would  reckon  him  among 
the  Communists  (as  a  Republican  he  is  not  much 
better) ;  an  atheist  he  certainly  is.  But  that  he 
belonged  to  this  reprobate  set  from  hatred  and  re- 
venge, because  he  was  excluded  from  the  Christian 
state,  Lord  Beaconsfield  will  hardly  succeed  in  con- 
vincing any  one  who  has  read  ten  pages  of  his  writ- 
ings. If  he  did  not  entertain  theistic  opinions,  and 
if  according  to  him  the  Jews  were  always  the  first 
to  oppose  the  "  Semitic  principle,"  perhaps  this  is 
rather  to  be  traced  to  the  eminent  critical  faculties 
of  the  race  and  their  sincerity — not  a  peculiarity  of 
other  Orientals — than  to  embitterment  at  the  stu- 
pidity of  statesmen.  If  Jews  are  most  eager  in  pro- 
claiming to  the  world  that  the  Israelites  are  not 
God's  chosen  people,  have  not  received  any  special 
revelation,  and  that  mankind  is  not  pre-eminently 
indebted  to  them,  does  it  not  follow  that  their  mo- 
tives are  disinterested  ?  Would  it  not  be  easier  for 
them  to  sacrifice  their  convictions  to  the  sterile  Mo- 
loch of  pride  of  race?  If,  in  the  year  1848,  Jews 
were  everywhere  found  at  the  head  of  the  revolts 
against  antiquated  tradition  and  ancient  wrongs — 
like  Daniel  Manin,  whom  Disraeli  himself  once  men- 
tions, at  the  helm  in  Venice — may  it  not  be  attrib- 
uted to  love  of  liberty,  twin  sister  of  love  of  truth? 


366  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

And  when  later  on,  in  some  important  countries, 
well-to-do  wealthy  Jews,  who  had  no  need  to  envy 
the  rich,  instigated  socialistic  movements,  may  not 
this  also  be  attributed  to  profound  qualities,  partly 
critical  and  partly  philanthropic,  which  had  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  hatred  of  society  ? 

The  dogmatic  and  Conservative  spirit  which  hov- 
ers before  Lord  Beaconsfield's  mental  vision  was 
merely  the  chrysalis  out  of  which  a  profoundly  criti- 
cal and  progressive  genius  was  developed ;  it  bud- 
ded in  the  prophets,  revealed  itself  to  the  world  in 
another  aspect  in  Spinoza ;  but  never  lifted  up  the 
light  of  its  countenance  on  Lord  Beaconsfield.  He 
certainly  cannot  be  looked  upon  as  the  personifica- 
tion of  the  many-sidedness  of  the  Jewish  race;  he 
is  wanting  in  its  idealistic  tendencies.  But  of  the 
persistent  energy,  the  industry,  the  perseverance, 
the  practical  instincts,  the  quickness  and  the  wit, 
the  love  of  pomp  and  the  ambition  of  his  race,  he 
is  the  typical  representative ;  and  he  has  that  re- 
markable confidence  in  the  superiority  of  the  race 
which  has  preserved  it  pure  for  thousands  of  years. 
No  other  being  like  himself  will  arise  ;  the  civiliza- 
tion of  the  age  will  not  permit  it ;  he  was  and  is 
only  a  possibility,  because  his  audacious  assertion 
of  the  "  Semitic  principle  "  fell  in  with  the  great 
romantic  religious  tendency  of  the  age.  But  when 
I  consider  that,  according  to  him,  only  two  possi- 


Conclusion.  367 

bilities  are  open  to  the  Jews — either  to  continue 
their  life  and  strife  within  the  limits  of  Semiticism, 
or  to  accept  the  all-embracing  modern  religion  of 
humanity — Disraeli  appears  to  me  to  be  not  only  a 
distinguished  representative  of  Judaism,  but  I  feel 
inclined  to  call  him  the  last  Jew. 

Is  he  a  great  man  ?  Not  if  the  word  be  taken 
in  its  precise  and  correct  sense.  Really  great  men 
wear  quite  a  different  aspect.  The  eminent  philos- 
ophers of  the  eighteenth  century  were  great  men, 
because  they  had  faith  in  ideas,  had  a  religion  of 
ideas,  and  because  they  unselfishly  consecrated  their 
lives,  amidst  many  sacrifices,  to  propagating  the 
truths  they  had  perceived.  The  statesmen  who 
were  masters  of  all  the  wealth  of  culture  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  like  Stein  and  Wilhelm  von 
Humboldt,  were  great  men,  because,  with  the  all- 
embracing  eye  of  genius,  they  comprehended  and 
looked  over  the  heads  of  their  contemporaries, 
stood  far  above  them,  and,  undaunted  by  discour- 
agement, strove  to  raise  them  to  their  own  level. 
They  were  also  thoroughly  upright  and  honourable 
men,  and  no  one  could  ever  be  in  doubt  what  their 
opinions  really  were.  Lord  Beaconsfield  is  a  man 
of  a  different  stamp.  Born  during  the  period  of 
reaction,  he  soon  comprehended  the  age,  accommo- 
dated himself  to  it,  proclaimed  its  favourite  doc- 
trines in  novel  forms,  and  only  to  a  certain  extent 


368  Lord  Bcaconsfield. 

bade  defiance  to  the  spirit  of  the  age,  because  he 
paid  homage  to  still  stronger  and  more  universal 
prejudices.  From  the  first  he  was  wanting  in  the 
scientific  spirit ;  he  has  always  been  ignorant  of  the 
great  idea  of  evolution — the  common  central  idea 
of  philosophy  and  natural  science  in  the  nineteenth 
century.  He  ridicules  it  in  "  Popanilla,"  where  he 
says,  in  one  of  the  satirical  turns  in  which  his 
strength  lies :  "  By  developing  the  water,  we  get 
fish ;  by  developing  the  earth,  we  get  corn,  and 
cash,  and  cotton ;  by  developing  the  air,  we  get 
breath  ;  by  developing  the  fire,  we  get  heat."*  He 
took  up  this  satire  again  twenty  years  later,  where 
the  book,  "  The  Revelations  of  Chaos  "  is  described. 
"You  know,  all  is  development.  The  principle  is 
perpetually  going  on.  First  there  was  nothing,  then 

there  was  something,  then I  forget  the  next ;  I 

think  there  were  shells,  then,  fishes ;  then  we  came. 
Let  me  see,  did  we  come  next?  Never  mind  that; 
we  came  at  last.  And  the  next  change  there  will 
be  something  very  superior  to  us — something  with 
wings.  Ah !  that's  it ;  we  were  fishes,  and  I  believe 
we  shall  be  crows.  But  you  must  read  it."f 

How  much  he  was  in  earnest  with  these  paro- 
dies of  the  doctrine  of  evolution  appears  from  his 
well-known  speech  at  Oxford,  in  1864,  in  which  he 

*  "  Popanilla,"  p.  377.  f  "  Tancred,"  p.  109. 


Conclusion.  369 

expressed  himself  with  the  strongest  emphasis 
against  "  the  most  modern  scientific  school,"  and 
even  made  himself  ridiculous  by  summing  up  the 
scientific  discussions  of  that  time  as  follows :  — 
"  The  question  is — Is  man  an  ape  or  an  angel  ? 
My  lord,  I  am  on  the  side  of  the  angel." 

It  may  well  be  asked  whether  he  really  meant 
this,  or  whether  it  was  only  accepted  as  the  neces- 
sary sequence  of  the  doctrine  of  the  superiority  of 
and  revelation  to  the  Semitic  race ;  but  if  he  did 
not  mean  it,  so  much  the  worse  for  him.  This  and 
other  isolated  things  might  be  overlooked,  though 
it  is  always  to  be  regretted  when  a  man  who  desires 
to  rule  his  contemporaries  talks  like  a  parish  clerk  of 
the  greatest  scientific  problems  and  ideas  of  his  time. 

But  these  expressions  do  not  stand  alone ;  they 
coincide  with  other  results  of  the  famous  theory  of 
race.  There  are  many  indications  that  one  par- 
ticular circumstance  induced  Disraeli  to  sacrifice  his 
thinking  faculties,  namely,  the  great  religious  reac- 
tion which  followed  the  abolition  of  Christianity 
decreed  by  the  French  Revolution.  This  made  him 
think,  as  it  did  most  of  his  contemporaries,  that 
revealed  religion  was  stronger  than  all  doubts,  or 
rather  that  it  had  such  a  hold  on  people's  minds 
that  it  never  could  again  be  superseded  in  the 
future.  The  reaction  appeared  to  him  to  be  a 
Semitic  reaction  against  Aryan  attempts  at  emanci- 
16* 


37°  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

pation,  and  in  its  force  he  found  one  of  the  strongest 
proofs  of  the  indomitable  superiority  of  the  Hebrew 
race  over  the  nations  of  Europe.  In  his . "  Life  of 
Bentinck,"  he  says  that  France,  since  her  revolt 
against  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  had  been 
in  a  state  of  torpor  varied  by  convulsions,  and  that 
England  owed  her  prosperity  to  the  circumstance 
that,  in  spite  of  her  meagre  and  faulty  theology,  she 
had  never  forgotten  Zion ;  that  North  America  and 
Russia  were  strictly  Semitic  (that  is,  religious) 
countries  ;  and  that  if  Northern  Germany  had  never 
attained  the  dominant  position  in  the  German 
Empire  to  which  it  seemed  destined  by  nature,  it 
was  because  it  had  never  been  entirely  converted  to 
Semitic  principles.  One  is  sorry  for  Disraeli's  sake 
that  the  present  powerful  position  of  Prussia  was 
not  preceded  by  any  Semitic  tendencies ;  but  even 
good  prophets  sometimes  prophesy  falsely. 

When  science,  in  the  second  half  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  emancipated  itself  from  the  swad- 
dling bands  of  reactionary  romanticism,  the  mind  of 
Lord  Beaconsfield  was  too  deeply  engraven  with 
its  peculiar  stamp  to  admit  of  new  impressions. 
The  splendid  scientific  research,  which  is  the  pride 
and  glory  of  our  age,  has  left  him  wholly  untouched. 
When  German  criticism  began  to  explore  antiquity, 
including  Biblical  antiquity,  he  either  could  not  or 
would  not  see  anything  in  it  but  a  repetition  of 


Conclusion.  371 

the  futile  attempts  of  the  last  century,  and  in  the 
"General  Preface"  to  his  works  we  find  the  fol- 
lowing sadly  stupid  or  sadly  prudent  sentence: — 
"One  of  the  consequences  of  the  divine  government 
of  this  world  .  .  .  must  be  occasionally  a  jealous 
discontent  with  the  revelation  entrusted  to  a  par- 
ticular family.  But  there  is  no  reason  to  believe 
that  the  Teutonic  rebellion  of  this  century  against 
the  divine  truths  entrusted  to  the  Semites  will 
ultimately  meet  with  more  success  than  the  Celtic 
insurrection  of  the  preceding  age."  The  man  who 
could  say  this  in  the  year  1870,  either  belonged  to 
a  past  age,  or  did  not  mean  what  he  said,  and  in 
neither  case  can  he  be  looked  upon  as  a  truly  great 
man. 

Still,  greatness  is  not  an  absolute  quantity,  and 
Lord  Beaconsfield  is,  at  any  rate,  a  man  of  great 
talent  and  ability.  He  was  always  ambitious,  and 
he  whose  first  aim  is  to  gain  honour  and  power 
himself,  and  makes  it  only  a  secondary  considera- 
tion to  employ  his  talents  and  the  power  they  have 
won  for  him  in  the  service  of  humanity,  will  inevi- 
tably forfeit  true  greatness  in  proportion  as  he  gains 
brilliance  of  position  and  renown.  Like  all  others, 
he,  once  in  his  youthful  days,  came  to  the  point 
where  two  ways  met — the  one  leading  to  power  and 
influence  and  high  position  ;  the  other — that  fol- 
lowed by  better  men,  who  seek  success  only  in  the 


3/2  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

second  place,  and,  above  all  things,  remain  true  to 
their  convictions,  and  strive  for  this  as  their  only 
direct  aim.  When  Lord  Beaconsfield  came  to  these 
cross-roads,  his  ambition  and  love  of  power  made 
choice  for  him.  But  scarcely  was  the  choice  made, 
when  all  the  love  of  truth  and  liberty  which  he  pos- 
sessed began  a  long  and  continued  revolt  against  it. 
One  hears  his  better  nature  asserting  itself  in  his 
utterances.  He  had  become  a  Tory  ;  but  he  said  at 
once  that  not  one  of  his  contemporaries  knew  what 
the  essence  of  Toryism  consisted  in  :  it  was  opposi- 
tion to  every  form  of  noble  oligarchy ;  it  was  an 
alliance  between  the  crown  and  the  people ;  and  it 
was  further  explained,  on  this  last  point,  that  the 
power  of  the  sovereign  ought  not  to  be  increased, 
while  the  social  and  political  wishes  of  the  people 
should  be  legally  realized.  He  had  become  a  Con- 
servative ;  but  he  immediately  said,  "  Let  us  not 
allow  ourselves  to  be  imposed  upon  by  those  who  so 
call  themselves  ;  they  must  be  subjected  to  a  rigid 
inquiry  as  to  what  they  wish  to  conserve,  and  if  it 
can  be  shown  to  be  mere  lumber,  then,  in  the  name 
of  true  Conservatism,  it  must  be  given  up."  He  be- 
came the  leader  of  the  Protectionists ;  but  no  sooner 
were  the  Corn  Laws  abolished  than  he  declared  that 
he  accepted  free  trade.  He  became  the  friend 
and  greatest  ally  of  the  aristocrats ;  but  he  spoke  in 
favour  of  the  Chartists,  and  awakened  sympathy  for 


Conclusion.  373 

them  by  a  novel.  He  became  chief  of  a  party  op- 
posed to  reform  ;  but  he  it  was  who  carried  the  great 
Reform  Bill,  and  with  the  declaration  that  he  had 
always  been  in  favour  of  household  suffrage,  and 
that  he  had  had  to  educate  his  party.  He  became 
an  orthodox  Anglican,  and  was  on  all  occasions  the 
champion  of  orthodox  Christianity  as  the  highest 
truth  ;  but  his  explanation  of  Christianity  changed 
it  into  Judaism;  and  again,  by  his  explanation  of 
Judaism,  he  made  it  appear  that  the  oppressed  and 
despised  Hebrew  race  was  the  first  on  earth,  and 
made  religious  truth  a  question  of  natural  science. 
He  paid  homage  to  the  Church  as  her  most  devoted 
son ;  but  he  wrote  more  enthusiastically  than  any 
Radical  among  his  contemporaries  in  honour  of  By- 
ron and  Shelley,  and  characterized  the  attitude  of 
the  Church  and  religious  society  towards  them  as 
stupidity  and  hypocrisy.  And  so  it  has  been  on 
every  question. 

He  undoubtedly  fell  into  many  an  awkward  and 
many  a  ludicrous  situation  as  Conservative  leader. 
Punch  of  1870  has  a  witty  cartoon  illustrative  of  his 
position.  It  refers  to  the  efforts  of  the  Disraeli 
Cabinet  to  extort  a  promise  from  the  Sultan  of 
Zanzibar  during  his  visit  to  London,  to  abolish  the 
slave  trade  in  his  dominions.  Disraeli  and  the  sul- 
tan are  engaged  in  conversation. 

"Right  Hon.  B.  D.     Now  that  your   Highness 


374  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

* 

has  seen  the  blessings  of  freedom,  I  trust  we  may 
rely  upon  your  strenuous  help  in  putting  down 
slavery  ? 

"  Sultan  Seyyid  Barghash.  Ah  yes  !  certainly ! 
But  remember,  O  Sheikh  Ben  Dizzy,  Conservative 
party  very  strong  in  Zanzibar !  " 

The  impersonality  of  the  jest  makes  it  even  more 
cutting  than  the  withering  scorn  with  which  O'Con- 
nell  in  his  day  characterized  Disraeli's  going  over  to 
the  Conservative  party.  It  must  not,  however,  be 
forgotten  that  an  English  Conservative  party,  in 
comparison  with  the  Continental  reactionary  par- 
ties, is  always  progressive,  and  that  Disraeli  himself 
always  taught  the  impossibility  of  founding  a  party 
on  the  basis  of  resistance  to  change.  And  if  further 
testimony  is  required  to  his  liberal  conception  of 
Toryism,  it  may  well  be  found  in  the  fact  that 
after  the  unmeasured  insults  which  O'Connell  had 
heaped  upon  him,  and  after  he  had  replied  to 
them  with  threats,  he  sought  and  found  reconcilia- 
tion with  O'Connell. 

% 

"  I  know  there  are  many  who  don't  understand 
the  sympathy  which  is  alleged  to  subsist  between 
me  and  the  honourable  member  for  Cork.  .  .  .  Our 
acquaintance  was  an  accident.  .  .  .  What  error 
was  it  in  me,  then  a  very  young  man,  if  meeting 
accidentally  with  a  great  man  who  entertained  simi- 
lar views,  I  declared  my  opinions  with  that  unre- 


Conclusion.  375 

serve  and  frankness,  which  I  hope  I  may  never 
lose?"* 

The  more  liberty  of  action  Disraeli  has  gained, 
the  more  he  has  returned  to  the  sympathies  of  his 
youth.  This  is  expressed  with  striking  truth  in  the 
anonymous  and  virulent  articles  on  him  (by  the 
editor  of  the  Daily  News)  in  the  Fortnightly  Review, 
August,  1878.  "If  a  man's  consistency  is  to  be 
judged  solely  by  comparing  the  beginning  and  end 
of  his  career,  Lord  Beaconsfield  might  be  accounted 
one  of  the  most  consistent  of  politicians.  But  there 
is  an  intervening  space,  occupying  the  greater  part, 
and  the  most  decisively  influential  part  of  his  ca- 
reer; and  that  cannot  be  left  out  of  the  reckoning." 

A  more  lenient  observer  would  have  reversed  the 
sentence,  and  would  have  said  that  a  politician  in 
the  peculiar  situation  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,  in  con- 
sideration of  the  agreement  between  his  starting- 
point  and  the  end  of  his  course,  may  claim  some 
indulgence  for  the  sins  of  the  intervening  period. 
In  that  interval  he  appears  as  the  true  disciple  of 
the  great  romantic  reaction.  His  theocratic  dreams, 
his  deification  of  the  person  of  his  sovereign,  his 
aristocratic  tendencies,  his  identification  of  beauty 
with  antiquity  or  with  the  beauty  of  antiquity,  his 
high  estimate  of  forms  and  ceremonies,  are  sheer 

*  "  Benjamin  Disraeli,  Earl  of  Beaconsfield,"  vol.  i.  p.  645. 


376  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

romanticism.     But  even  as  a  youth  he  laid  a  mine 
»  underneath  all  this,  and  when  an  old  man  he  set  a 
light  to  it. 

Is  he  a  great  statesman  ?  The  rank  of  a  states- 
man is  generally  partly  determined  by  the  results  of 
his  career,  and  Lord  Beaconsfield  is  still  living,  and 
is  even  now  engaged  in  a  great  and  perilous  politi- 
cal action.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  if  we  apply  to 
him  the  standard  of  the  nineteenth  century,  he  must 
be  considered  a  great  statesman.  His  mind  and 
powers  were  under  constraint  so  long  as  only  a  sec- 
ondary post  was  assigned  him  as  Minister  of  a  spe- 
cial department  under  the  leadership  of  another,  and 
with  a  minority  in  Parliament  which  was  not  even 
a  large  one.  It  has  only  been  since  1874  that  it  has 
been  possible  for  him  to  develop  his  long-husbanded 
powers.  It  has  not  been  difficult  for  his  enemies  to 
point  out  the  un-English  character  of  a  mind  which, 
like  his,  acts  by  surprises,  and  always  appeals  to  the 
imagination  of  the  masses  ;  but  even  beneath  such 
formal  measures  as  the  proclamation  of  the  Queen 
as  Empress  of  India,  the  political  idea  may  be 
traced.  Now  that  England  has  become  a  semi- 
Oriental  power,  it  can  scarcely  be  considered  char- 
latanism for  an  English  politician  to  try  to  work  on 
the  imagination  of  Orientals.  And  it  almost  looks 
as  if  it  had  been  fore-ordained  that  it  should  fall  to 
the  lot  of  Lord  Beaconsfield  to  represent  England 


Conclusion.  377 

during  the  last  conflict  between  Russia  and  Turkey. 
For  the  Eastern  question  may  be  called  in  an  emi- 
nent degree  his  affair,  his  cause.  It  was  even  felt 
to  be  so  by  those  who  did  not  clearly  comprehend 
it.  To  what  extent  he  may  have  failed  in  some 
particulars  cannot  now  be  determined,  but  thus 
much  seems  certain,  that  he  has  not  only  achieved  a 
great  deal,  but  at  the  same  time  marked  out  the 
political  lines  which  England  must  follow  if  she  is 
seriously  resolved  to  maintain  her  vast  Asiatic 
colony.  If  Lord  Beaconsfield  is  not  a  great  states- 
man, he  has  shown  himself  the  man  capable  of  con- 
trolling a  great  political  situation.  This  old  man  of 
seventy-three  was  practically  the  only  man  in  Eu- 
rope in  the  spring  of  1878,  who  had  courage  and 
firmness  enough  to  bring  Russia,  intoxicated  as  she 
was  with  victory,  to  a  stand.  He  alone  seized  the 
Bear  by  the  ear,  and  dragged  him  to  the  Congress 
at  Berlin.  The  considerations  which  tied  the  hands 
of  the  other  statesmen  of  Europe  were  not  binding 
on  the  representative  of  England,  and  the  scruples 
which  would  have  fettered  every  other  English 
statesman  were  nothing  to  him.  One  must  have 
very  little  acquaintance  with  his  belief  in  the  prero- 
gative of  a  great  personage  to  suppose,  for  a  mo- 
ment that  a  treaty  would  prevent  him  from  sending 
the  British  fleet  to  Constantinople,  or  that  a  clause 
in  an  Act  should  prevent  him  from  thus  laying  em- 


378  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

phasis  on  his  words.  Did  not  even  Vivian  Grey  say : 
"  There  wants  but  one  thing  more :  courage,  pure, 
perfect  courage  ?  " 

England  had  fallen  into  disrepute  among  the  na- 
tions ;  her  want  of  participation  in  the  politics  of 
Europe  was  a  subject  of  ridicule ;  the  fate  of  Hol- 
land was  everywhere  foretold  for  her.  I  have  my- 
self heard  from  the  lips  of  more  than  one  liberal 
Englishman  confessions  of  shame  at  this  dishonour, 
and  the  wish  that  England,  even  at  the  risk  of  stay- 
ing her  internal  progress,  might  regain  her  place 
among  the  nations  of  Europe.  And  at  the  same 
time,  Russia  was  turning  an  ever-increasing  portion 
of  Asia  into  Russian  provinces,  and  threatened  at 
last  to  make  the  position  of  England  in  India  un- 
tenable. While  England  was  not  considered  to  be 
in  a  position  to  try  her  strength  with  Russia,  and 
Europe  was  laughing  at  the  exasperation  of  the 
whale  with  the  bear,  he  gave  a  voice  to  the  senti- 
ments of  the  people.  I  should  not  wonder  if  Lord 
Beaconsfield's  soul  was  filled  with  some  such  Old 
Testament  pathos,  as  the  description  of  the  beasts 
of  prey  in  the  Book  of  Job.  "  Canst  thou  draw  out 
leviathan  with  an  hook?  or  his  tongue  with  a  cord 
which  thou  lettest  down?  Canst  thou  put  an  hook 
into  his  nose?  or  bore  his  jaw  through  with  a  thorn? 
Will  he  make  many  supplications  unto  thee?  will 
he  speak  soft  words  unto  thee  ?  Will  he  make  a 


Conclusion.  379 

covenant  with  thee  ?  wilt  thou  take  him  for  a  ser- 
vant for  ever  ?  Wilt  thou  play  with  him  as  with  a 
bird?  or  wilt  thou  bind  him  for  thy  maidens?  .  .  . 
Lay  thine  hand  upon  him,  remember  the  battle,  do 
no  more." 

Without  firing  a  shot,  or  shedding  a  drop  of 
English  blood,  by  the  energy  he  displayed,  and  by 
adroitly  taking  advantage  of  circumstances,  he 
gained  greater  advantages  for  England  than  his 
Whig  predecessors  had  gained  by  the  long  and 
bloody  Crimean  war.  And  even  if,  by  this  time, 
the  glory  of  the  Treaty  of  Berlin  has  to  a  great 
extent  faded  away,  because  its  mistakes  and  short- 
comings have  gradually  been  discerned  by  the  mul- 
titude, still,  in  order  to  form  a  true  estimate  of  Lord 
Beaconsfield's  services,  one  has  only  to  remember 
the  amazement  of  Europe  on  hearing  of  English 
preparations  against  Russia,  of  English  enterprise  in 
importing  the  Indian  troops  to  Malta ;  it  saw  a  new 
spirit  arising,  and,  still  almost  incredulous,  became 
convinced  that  England  had  awakened  from  her 
death-like  slumbers. 

The  life  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,  like  the  lives  of  all 
great  characters,  began  in  mystic,  heroic  dreams, 
and  a  youth  of  poetic  emotion,  ripening  into  a  ma- 
turity fruitful  of  great  deeds.  When  a  critic  tries 
to  form  a  conception  of  and  to  delineate  his  charac- 
ter, he  had  need  be  upon  his  guard  ;  for  the  subject 


380  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

is  ever  changing,  and  demands  an  ever-changing 
method ;  mere  literary  criticism  must  become  psy- 
chological, and  psychology  must  embrace  the  emo- 
tions of  the  individual  soul  and  the  spirit  of  the  age. 
For  his  biography  by  degrees  becomes  history,  and 
his  history  expands  at  length  into  a  portion  of  the 
history  of  the  world. 

I  had  been  musing  on  this  remarkable  career 
when,  in  the  year  1870,  I  saw  and  heard  Disraeli  for 
the  first  time  in  Parliament.  It  was  a  few  months 
after  the  French  declaration  of  war.  Disraeli  de- 
manded that  the  papers  relating  to  it  should  be  laid 
upon  the  table ;  Gladstone  maintained  that  he  could 
not  yet  produce  them.  The  debate  was  not  in  itself 
important.  Disraeli's  theories  about  race  became 
intelligible  on  seeing  the  two  opponents  confronted 
with  each  other,  for  in  the  House  of  Commons  he 
literally  looked  like  the  representative  of  a  foreign 
race.  While  Gladstone  produced  the  impression  of 
the  true-born,  distinguished  Englishman,  with  his 
noble,  clear-cut  profile,  his  piercing  eye,  and  uncon- 
strained manner  ;  Disraeli,  with  his  curly  black  hair, 
his  dark  complexion,  his  prominent  under  lip,  and 
determined  yet  fiery  glance,  looked  like  a  fire  spirit 
confronted  with  the  spirit  of  the  ocean.  When  he 
began  to  speak  it  was  evident  which  was  the  more 
interesting  man  of  the  two.  His  peculiar  eloquence 
made  an  ineffaceable  impression  on  me ;  I  have 


Conclusion.  381 

never  forgotten  its  spirit  and  energy,  its  fine,  well- 
rounded  periods,  and  the  dry  wit  which  continually 
called  forth  peals  of  laughter  from  his  party. 

I  saw  Lord  Beaconsfield  last  in  July,  1878,  during 
the  Congress  of  Berlin.  He  was  staying  at  the 
Kaiserhof,  opposite  Prince  Bismarck's  palace;  he 
was  the  acknowledged  lion  of  the  Congress,  and 
when  from  his  balcony  he  looked  across  to  his  great 
neighbour,  he  could  pride  himself  on  having  at- 
tained a  fame  almost  as  wide.  On  this  balcony 
were  placed,  by  the  attention  of  the  landlord,  six 
fine  laurel  plants,  and  a  little  stunted  palm,  so  that 
Lord  Beaconsfield,  whose  imagination  had  always 
been  dreaming  of  laurels,  and  whose  heroes  of  ro- 
mance wandered  among  palms,  had  symbols  of  his 
honours  and  a  frail  symbol  of  the  home  of  his  race 
before  his  eyes  when  he  opened  his  door  in  the 
morning. 

One  day,  as  I  happened  to  be  crossing  the 
Wilhehnsplatz,  I  met  him  on  the  narrow  footpath 
between  the  flower-beds,  as  he  was  going  across  the 
square  to  the  Congress,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  his 
secretary,  Mr.  Montagu  Corry.  I  was  so  near  to 
him  that  I  could  look  straight  into  his  face.  His 
steps  were  slow ;  he  looked  weary,  ill,  and  almost 
irritable.  Over-exertion  was  evident  in  every  line 
of  his  countenance,  and  he  acknowledged  the  deep 
and  respectful  salutations  of  the  good  citizens  of 


382  Lord  Beaconsfield. 

Berlin  with  a  weary  and  mechanical  movement  of 
his  hand  to  his  hat.  But  as  I  gazed  into  his  pale 
and  haggard  face,  I  involuntarily  thought  of  all  the 
conflicts  he  had  passed  through,  the  disappoint- 
ments he  had  experienced,  the  agonies  and  tor- 
ments he  had  suffered,  and  the  lofty  courage  with 
which  he  had  triumphed  over  them  all.  I  thought 
of  his  genuine  sympathy  with  the  common  people 
whose  cause  he  had  defended,  and  with  the  op- 
pressed race  to  which  he  was  never  ashamed  to  be- 
long, and  whose  rights  he  compelled  Roumania  to 
acknowledge  at  the  Congress;  and  I  saw  him  all  at 
once  in  a  more  attractive  and  ideal  light,  and,  al- 
most against  my  will,  a  feeling  of  sympathy  took 
possession  of  my  mind. 


THE  END. 


The    best    Biography    of  the    Greatest    of   the    Romans. 


GjESAR:     A    SKETCH. 

BY 
JAMES  ANTHONY  FROUDE,  M.A. 


One    vol.,    8vo.    cloth,   •with    a   Steel    Portrait   and    a   Map. 
Price,  $2. BO. 


There  is  no  historical  writer  of  onr  time  -who  can  rival  Mr.  Fronde  in  vivid 
delineation  of  character,  grace  and  clearness  of  style  and  elegant  and  solid 
scholarship.  In  his  !,//<•  of  Caesar,  all  these  qualities  appear  in  their  fullest 
perfection,  resulting  in  a  fascinating  narrative  which  will  be  read  with  keen 
delight  by  a  multitude  of  readers,  and  will  enhance,  if  possible,  Mr.  Fronde's 
brilliant  reputation. 


CRITICAL    NOTICES. 

"The  book  is  charmingly  written,  and,  on  the  whole,  wisely  written.  There  are  many 
admirable,  really  noble,  passages  ;  there  are  hundreds  of  pages  which  few  living  men 
could  match.  *  *  *  The  political  life  of  Caesar  is  explained  with  singular  lucidity, 
and  with  what  seems  to  us  remarkable  fairness.  The  horrible  condition  of  Roman 
society  under  the  rule  of  the  magnates  is  painted  with  startling  power  and  brilliance  of 
coloring. — Atlantic  Monthly. 

"  Mr.  Froude's  latest  work,  "  Caesar,"  is  affluent  of  his  most  distinctive  traits. 
Nothing  that  he  has  written  is  more  brilliant,  more  incisive,  more  interesting.  *  *  * 
He  combines  into  a  compact  and  nervous  narrative  all  that  is  known  of  the  personal, 
social,  political,  and  military  life  of  Caesar  ;  and  with  his  sketch  of  Caesar,  includes  other 
brilliant  sketches  of  the  great  men,  his  friends  or  rivals,  who  contemporancou>ly  with 
him  formed  the  principal  figures  in  the  Roman  world." — Harper's  Monthly. 

"This  book  is  a  most  fascinating  biography,  and  is  by  far  the  best  account  of  Julius 
Caesar  to  be  found  in  the  English  language." — London  Standard. 

"  It  is  the  best  biography  of  the  greatest  of  the  Romans  we  have,  and  it  is  in  some 
respects  Mr.  Froude's  best  piece  of  historical  writing." — Hartford  Courant, 

Mr.  Froude  has  given  the  public  the  best  of  all  recent  books  on  the  life,  character 
and  career  of  Julius  Caesar." — rhila.  Rve.  Bulletin. 


*0*    For  sale   by  all  booksellers,  or  will  be  sent,  prepaid,  upon 
receipt  of  price,  by 

CHARLES  SCRIBNKR'S   SONS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


"The  world  has  waited  for  this  publication,  and  now  that  it  has  appeared,  it 
will  be  diligently  read  by  all  men." 

THE    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

PRINCE    METTERNICH. 

Edited  by  his  Son,  PRINCE  METTERNICH.     Translated  by  Robina  Napier. 
With  a  minute  index  prepared  especially  for  this  edition. 

2  vols.,  8vo.    With  Portrait  and  Fac-similes      -        -        $5.00. 


For  twenty  years— since  it  became  known  at  his  death  that  the  great  diplomatist 
of  the  Napoleonic  period  had  left  his  memoirs — the  publication  of  this  book  has  been 
looked  for  with  such  interest  as  perhaps  no  other  personal  revelations  could  have 
aroused.  Prince  Metternich's  own  directions  kept  it  back  during  this  time;  and  this 
fact,  with  the  complete  secresy  preserved  as  to  the  contents  of  the  manuscript,  rightly 
led  to  the  belief  that  he  had  treated  the  events  and  persons  of  his  day  with  an  un- 
sparing candor. 

The  simultaneous  publication  of  the  memoirs  in  Germany,  France,  England  and 
America  is  therefore  something  more  than  a  literary  event.  Metternich  alone  held  the 
keys  of  the  most  secret  history  of  the  most  important  epoch  in  modern  times,  and  in 
this  book  he  gives  them  up — an  impossibility  during  his  life.  Even  to  especial  students, 
who  know  what  problems  these  disclosures  have  been  expected  to  solve,  the  value  of 
what  they  open  will  be  as  surprising  as  the  extraordinary  care  with  which  they  have 
been  guarded. 

The  announcement  alone  is  of  sufficient  interest,  that  we  are  at  last  in  possession 
of  the  autobiography  of  the  statesman  who  from  the  French  Revolution  to  Waterloo, 
took  part  in  the  making  of  nearly  every  great  treaty,  and  was  himself  the  negotiator 
of  the  greatest  ;  and  who  from  1806  to  1815,  was  the  guiding  rajnd  of  the  vast  combin- 
ations which  defeated  Napoleon  and  decided  the  form  of  modern  Europe. 


EXTRACTS  FROM  REVIEWS  OF  THE  METTERNICH 
MEMOIRS. 

"  The  great  chancellor  writes  with  an  exceedingly  easy  pen.  It  is  indeed  inter- 
esting to  follow  his  narration,  so  clear  that  one  never  loses  the  thread  of  his  story,  and 
so  graphic  that  we  get  a  glimpse  of  the  scenes  as  with  our  own  eyes.  The  work  is 
intensely  interesting  to  read,  and  of  the  greatest  value  to  the  historical  student." — 
N.  Y.  Independent. 

"  Of  the  great  value  of  the  work  we  have  already  spoken.  It  not  only  enables 
the  world  for  the  first  time  to  understand  clearly  the  objects  for  which  Prince  Metter- 
nich contended  throughout  his  long  public  life,  but  casts  fresh  light  on  some  of  the 
most  obscure  historical  incidents  of  his  day." — The  Athenceum. 

"  The  Memoirs  of  Metternich  are  to  be  heartily  welcomed  by  all  who  are  inter- 
ested either  in  the  serious  facts  or  the  lighter  gossip  of  history.  There  is  no  period, 
indeed,  in  recent  history,  more  important  or  attractive  than  that  covered  by  the  first 
volume  of  these  memoirs." — Boston  Literary  World. 


%*  For  sale    by    all   booksellers,    or  -will  be  sent,  prepaid,  upon 
receipt  of  price,  by 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS,  PUBLISHERS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


